


A Matter of Perspective

by Bleachcake, Lendra



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Dorks in Love, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Slice of Life, Understanding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2018-12-05 15:42:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11581110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bleachcake/pseuds/Bleachcake, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lendra/pseuds/Lendra
Summary: Mikleo isn't one who does well with change. It's not something he can avoid, however, and when it begins with a new employee at the flower shop across the street, he doesn't anticipate the ripple of it to sweep him away with the tide. He thought he knew himself enough to know what he liked, but life, he finds, is a constant state of realization, and change is inevitable.A slice of life Florist x Baker AU that targets the troubles of LGBT youth





	1. Assumptions

**PROLOGUE**

* * *

 

It had become customary that he would see, in the crisp of early morning, a strawberry blonde head haloed in sunlight across a brief stretch of glass, brick and stone.

It had simply drawn his eye, at first; the quiet of morning twilight only slightly disrupted by new activity just across the street. She would arrive, bright-eyed, and after observing the assorted flora that decorated the displays outside and preening those necessary, she would brandish her keys and let herself inside to begin.

It was a greenhouse; walls of glass, ceilings of glass and latticed wood. It was an easy place to rest his eyes in times when he found his mind to wander; vibrant variations, colors plentiful and always lush. Half a year and some smattering of months later and she had become just as much a fixed variable to the greenhouse as the their wares.

Working across from the massive garden, it was sometimes a pleasant reprieve from the overly sweet smells of baked goods and frostings to step outside and take in the scent of fresh bloom. Working at a well established bakery and sweets shop had its own perks, certainly, though he’d come to admit it would not be so pleasant if not for the garnish of their flowery neighbors.

Thus, he basked in the simple satisfaction of their arrangements and ventured to indulge in it no further.

\--

“You’re Mikleo, right?”

She’d asked him that one day, catching him unawares and startling him so he’d nearly catapulted a fresh tray of muffins from his arms into the air. His name was quite unique and her gaze, though apologetic, was directed pointedly at him so there was no mistaking it. He’d nodded, cleared his throat and responded which earned a bright smile in return.

She introduced herself, Alisha, (though he had already known that for a time) and explained that she’d wished to thank him for the occasional delivery baskets of freshly baked goods.

It wasn’t a personal gesture of kindness. They were closely arranged businesses that often reaped off the popularity of the other. Similar interests seemed to tie sweets and flowers together nicely in their patrons and thus, in times when an upsurge in sales was expected, they would purchase corresponding items from one another. Mikleo was responsible for the arrangements and Alisha, apparently, was fond of them.

Thanking him didn’t seem entirely necessary, but it had stirred something giddy in him.

From thenceforth, they had that casual and comfortable acquaintanceship that cultivated friendship inevitably, and she had become a face he looked forward to seeing every early morning work shift.

Thus, it was odd when he did not see her, and especially so when it continued for the next two weeks; the owner of the little greenhouse having taken to opening up on his own.

At first it seemed like perhaps she could have fallen ill, or more favorably just had a vacation, but the burning questions was answered so quickly and anticlimactically when the local delivery girl was in a few morning’s later. She was loading up her bike and with an urgent order of a ‘Congratulations’ cake when he decided to inquire.

“Rose, you know what happened to Alisha? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

With a flip of her somewhat stubby ponytail, he could already see the expression on her face; scrunched brows, lips pressed in a tight line like she was thinking, but knowing her and her connections, she didn’t have to reach far into her mind to find her response.

“Yeah, she had to drop the flower shop job. Got an internship she really wanted, so that’s cool, but it’s a bummer not to see her around.”

It was good and bad news all at once. He could feel his shoulders lowering as he physically deflated. He somehow hadn’t worried too much about the possibility that she wasn’t working there anymore. It was assumed she would have given him a little head’s up, but perhaps he wasn’t as close with her as he perceived. Still, her landing a position she truly wanted made him glad for her own success. It seemed less and less of their peers were able to truly chase that pipe dream.

“Oh, that makes sense.” The words were carefully chosen, never letting on too much, as was natural for a proud young man like himself. Rose’s elbow in his side disrupted that stoic air immediately, yet his first thought was wondering how she got around to his side of the counter that fast.

“You won’t be able to make goo goo eyes at her anymore. You’ve got my condolences; she’s a real looker.” In one fluid motion, she was snapping up a large cookie from one of the ‘Day Old Goods’ baskets on the polished chrome display case, evading Mikleo’s half hearted attempts to intercept. Her fingers were unwrapping it as she deftly back peddled back to the entrance, blue eyes dancing with mischief as they always were.

“Gotta be quicker than that! Goodluck with the heartache, though.” She winked, indicating very little remorse.

Despite himself, he could feel his body bunching right back up, ruffled and hooked on her playful bait.

“You know it’s not like th-” He couldn’t finish his mouthful of defense before she was shoving the door open with her foot, causing the entrance bell to jangle loudly as she inserted one end of the strawberry and white chocolate macadamia into her mouth, calling around it’s edges.

“Consider this part of my rush charge! Call ‘ya when the cake is safe and sound!”

And just as unceremoniously as that, he knew where Alisha Diphda had gone and the rest of his day dragged.

-

It had surprised him considerably more than it should have when Alisha, not a few days later, was making an appearance across that familiar stretch of stone and glass as she had those many mornings through the year. He had visibly perked, eyes widening with a slight flicker of long silver lashes. The prospect that she was simply dropping by was unlikely as it was that exact time of day she had used to start.

He was moving to the entrance of the bakery, making to throw open the door to greet her with well tamed exuberance as he had no intention of embarrassing himself more than he’d done already in front of her. He was, however, taking immediate pause to duck behind the door, feeling a bit foolish as it was virtually entirely translucent with only a few obstructions to help hide him.

As it turned out, Alisha was not alone.

She had planted herself outside the glass garden lush with spring growth, stationed in wait for someone that did indeed not keep her waiting very long. She smiled brightly as they came into view and from Mikleo’s vantage, which was somewhat poor when trying to spy at oblong angles, he could see nothing until they were right upon her.

He came up quickly atop a bike, braking to stop just past her where he, already in a standing position, was able to hop off and clip a tire to the rack along the sidewalk. His dexterity was admirable and Mikleo felt his eyes narrowing.

He seemed tall. Not overly so, but at least a head taller than she was which made him, begrudgingly, taller than Mikleo. Mikleo told himself he would ascertain that for himself as he remained suddenly and stubbornly convinced there was no certainty of that until otherwise proven.

They regarded one another with familiarity, at least judging from Alisha’s expression as the interloper was turned away. His hair was chestnut in the golden glow of the morning sun just barely beginning to peek over the rooftops of the street buildings. And from what Mikleo was able to discern amongst the fluffy tufts, there looked to be a pair of feathers poking out on each side of his head like horizontal antennae the same color gold as the orange glare of morning.

With an immediacy that almost stunned himself, Mikleo already decided they looked foolish, whatever they were, and leered with new curiosity at the pair as they were heading inside and disappearing behind the glean of glass.

“What are you doing?”

Mikleo startled gracelessly, squawking and nearly bashing his head against a wooden support beam he had taken to ducking behind. Once he’d had a moment to catch his breath, hand pressed protectively over his heart as it thundered, he chanced a half abashed, half perturbed look at the owner.

Were he half the wiser, he’d have been mortified. But he knew her well enough by now, Lailah’s behaviors and foibles, and her bright-eyed observation did nothing to hide the mischievous curiosity lurking at the corner of her lips.

“Nothing,” was all Mikleo allowed, straightening his spine and walking chin up to is station. It miffed him that Lailah did not inquire further and simply giggled behind a delicate hand as though she already knew and simply asked for her own amusement.

She was an odd one, but if he had to give a fair observation, none of the people he seemed to surround himself with were really what he would call typical. Lailah was very loving and intelligent, perhaps a little preoccupied with being ‘young and relevant’, but she also had quirks that went well beyond a potential mid life crisis.

Her strong affinity for pastries that had swirl patterns to them was overtly obvious, coming to be one of the trademarks for the little shop. Then there was the knack for terrible puns and corny jokes that would make anyone groan outwardly if they weren’t first distracted by her beaming personality.

She was a good boss, but could certainly get to be a bit of a handful. He was torn between seeing her as a sister figure or a mother. Personally, he knew, she would prefer the former.

As the longhaired bakery owner floated back behind the counter and slipped into the kitchen to continue with a new bowl of fresh dough, Mikleo let himself slump off to his own chores, sparing only a glance back toward the entrance, though not with any expectation of actually seeing through to the flower shop across the way.

Hopefully this strange newcomer was simply another delivery boy that would come and go once summer break was over. From what he saw of his back, it was likely one of those yoga loving, ‘Green Peace’, kale smoothie kinda guys. The type that play the guitar and use their ‘environmental activism’ to woo women into some intimacy before dropping off the map.

There were a couple of those types around here, drawn in by the nearby university and it’s vast outdoor exploration programs. Mikleo’s eyes rolled back, lips puffing pale bangs from his face before getting on with the morning routine, starting first with the newest pot of fresh ground coffee. The iced coconut horchata was going fast these days. With a small sniff of lethargy, Mikleo took to the front of the store to sweep while the coffee brewed and tried to keep his tendency for eyes to wander across the street to a minimum.

\--

Despite hopes of this alleged delivery boy coming and going like a seasonal rain shower, he saw that same bicycle chained out front the next day and the same ridiculously unruly head of hair going in. Seriously, did he ever comb it?

His brow arched, head turning to see if Alisha’s head of flaxen hair was at all visible as well, though before he could even crane far enough, he was nearly biting through his bottom lip in startle. The young woman was beside him in seconds, having come through the entrance to the bakery, her familiar curls bouncing by her cheeks. Mikleo hadn’t the chance to feign indifference as he was preoccupied with not getting taken out by the door as she swung it open.

“Mikleo! Good morning! I’m so glad I caught y- Oh my goodness, are you okay?” His startle had not passed her by and where his skin had paled at first glance, it was now flushed cherry red with awkwardness. She was peering innocently from behind the door, allowing Mikleo a moment to compose himself and offering a small apology that he was quick to dismiss.

Once properly straightened, he was regarding Alisha with the fondness of a friend he’d not seen in some time which was not untrue. He supposed her absence was made all the more keen now that he was seeing her and knowing she was not going to be that familiar morning neighbor any longer.

“I’m not all that difficult to find.” Mikleo teased, Alisha producing a giggle that rang like a bell. For a second, Mikleo reveled in it before before clearing his throat and endeavoring for regular conversation.

“I can’t say the same for you, though. You suddenly disappeared and it was Rose that filled me in.” It was only vaguely scolding, though even that was a generous description. Mikleo didn’t have the heart to truly chastise her and especially when she looked so sheepish.

“I’m sorry, it was such a whirlwind, I barely had time to process it all! I should have told you sooner…”

Mikleo shook his head, dismissing her guilt if only to relieve the ache in his heart before he flashed her a genuine smile.

“I’m glad you landed that internship. You’ve worked hard for it.” A major in political science was one thing but Alisha had been determined to work her way up as quickly as possible from the start. Her ambition was admirable and nothing about her humble position at a flower shop sullied it in any way. She presented him an expression that made him nearly drop the broom in hand, but he weathered it well; it would be a bit shameful if he hadn’t been able to by then.

“I’m sorry I won’t be around as often as before, but I’ll be sure to come by as much as possible.” She wasn’t one to break promises, Mikleo knew, thus he was considerably reassured and felt a bizarre urge to regard the new greenhouse employee with a smug expression as though he’d secured a victory somehow.

He did his best to ignore the voice in his head that told him he was being exceptionally weird and no amount of explanation could justify his aversion.

“You’re here pretty early. You guys have a delivery going out?” Peering about, Mikleo did not spot their usual delivery girl or the man who accompanied her on occasion. Even so, it was at least a nice segway on to other topics.

“No delivery, I’m just training. We like to try and cover the basics before we officially open so it’ll be a handful of early mornings for me.” Alisha explained and Mikleo was hoping they could gloss over aforementioned trainee. Karma had alternative plans it seemed, keen as it ever was, as Alisha unintentionally targeted the topic on his mind like an arrowhead trained to a bullseye.

“Speaking of work! I was hoping to get some of that coffee you have. Two, if you don’t mind?”

Even before Mikleo rounded the counter, he knew the answer to his question. He asked it anyway; for principle matters, of course.

“One for you and one for Sergei?”

“Oh, no, it’s actually for our new employee, Sorey! I’m not sure what kind of coffee he likes but you make such delicious drinks, I’m sure anything will fit his fancy.” Her luminous smile and the sparkle to her eyes, coupled with compliments of his capabilities left him at a terrible disadvantage when wanting to properly express distaste.

He had a name now. Mikleo wasn’t sure he was glad to have it or not.

Really? _Soleil_? It sounded like the french equivalent to naming a child 'Destiny' or 'Nevaeh'. It certainly complemented the idea he had about this guy doing yoga and drinking out of mason jars. It was only after a brief moment of self reflection that, well, technically his own name was the _swahili_ equivalent to his accusations...and he was as pale as they came. Long backstory on that one, and perhaps the product having an eccentric, bookish mother, but it still felt somewhat ill fitting in his generation.

His eyes flicked to the door and for a moment he could feel his blood take pause, noting that the figure standing on the sidewalk across the way was, in fact, staring right back. The details of his face weren't quite visible from this distance, further distorted by glass, but it was enough to know where he was looking, almost as if responding to Mikleo's internal criticism over a name.

He was being cruel; he knew he was. But he told himself it was a natural reaction to wanting the best for someone as socially naive as Alisha. Sharp as a tack when it came to politics, but innuendos could land right on her nose and she wouldn't blink.

"Is that....okay?" Her voice brought him back to the moment where he'd left her hanging in silence just a few moments too long as the prickle of a blush swept his milky cheeks. A melanin deficiency was the root of his complexion, but again, it was awkward to explain a rare skin condition alongside a rarer name. Instead he could just curse how easily blood rushed to his face when caught off guard.

"Yeah, sorry. I was thinking of whether I had all the right ingredients prepped." A fair excuse for the lull in conversation. She needn't know the more petty thoughts he entertained. "Did you want the special?"

He knew the answer before she cheerfully gave it, already digging for her card, though he waved her off this time.

"On me this morning; Congrats for the internship." His easy smile was genuine this time, walking with refined poise to his morning station. In a second's time, metallic cups were clinking together in the song of drink preparation, disturbed only by the jingle of the door creaking slightly for another customer. He was a regular for morning coffee and day old bread and Mikleo easily waved him in as he finished Alisha’s order, handing it across the counter and into her hands after she's skittered from the path of the older gentleman.

"Sorry I can't chat more. But it's good to hear I'll still see you around every once in awhile."

She beamed, cradling her order against her chest as though it were precious.

“For the next two weeks at least, since I’ll be training Sorey. I’ll see you later!” She chirped and gracefully made her way to the exit. It only took a few skips before she was standing in front of the entrance to the greenhouse.

Sorey, as he was now named, was quick to hold the door open for her, their expressions benevolent as their mouths moved in friendly exchange, though Mikleo was clear out of hearing range. It took a rough clearing of the throat for Mikleo to draw his attention back to the customer at hand, the pale barista going flush at the telling expression his patron was paying him.

Before he could be further humiliated, he was quickly busying himself with work as was expected of him and hoped he would not see much of this ‘Soleil’ in the near future.

Distantly, or perhaps not so distantly, he knew such wishes were pointless.


	2. Observation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sorey, as he was now named, was quick to hold the door open for her, their expressions benevolent as their mouths moved in friendly exchange, though Mikleo was clear out of hearing range. It took a rough clearing of the throat for Mikleo to draw his attention back to the customer at hand, the pale barista going flush at the telling expression his patron was paying him._
> 
> _Before he could be further humiliated, he was quickly busying himself with work as was expected of him and hoped he would not see much of this ‘Soleil’ in the near future._
> 
> _Distantly, or perhaps not so distantly, he knew such wishes were pointless._

Mikleo was being unreasonable.

 

He had yet to officially meet the new greenhouse employee face to face yet even so, his opinion had been formulated and it was far from flattering. Aspects of personality he formerly had little aversion to were suddenly a point of irritation. Prejudices were forming based off face value alone and where Mikleo was wise enough and arguably decent enough a human being to keep his sour machinations to himself, he certainly wasn't jumping on the opportunity to acquaint himself to the new hire.

 

The two weeks of Alisha's training had come and gone almost ridiculously fast and much of it had been filled with the sweet faced girl bringing up the trainee in conversation on a regular occasion and with notable enthusiasm.

 

An equitable voice in his head reasoned that he was acting petulantly, that no manner of jealousy warranted such a double-standard of judgement toward someone he didn't even know, but he supposed he could allow himself the childish coping method as long as he didn't act outwardly antagonistic.

 

Such was easier said than done, but he worked in customer service. He was certain he would manage just fine. Probably.

 

It was honestly his hope that, despite the closeness of the two companies, he simply wouldn't have to interact much or even at all with the new hire. Maybe he could ride it out until the fall semester kicked back up and students buckled down once more. Maybe this guy would get bored of preening flowers and shrubbery and find some other part time job to chase tail; Like playing the guitar at a cafe or reciting stale slam poetry. 

 

But the day that Alisha's training was over, those desires were promptly snuffed out.    
  
Mikleo had class that morning, but luckily was in the last stretch of the spring semester with roughly three months remaining. He'd be able to make some money with the summer rush and work the weekdays he currently missed due to class. 

 

Somehow the bakery had become more exciting than education. Perhaps because the tasks were simple; make coffee, put out muffins, decorate cakes, serve up specialty sundaes. School remained more of the unknown. Sure, the subjects were not difficult, but the path was less certain. The end goal couldn't be chalked up to 'make sure to sell all the raspberry bars today'. Whatever vision he had for what lie at the end was particularly hazy, a fact that occasionally sunk into his belly like lumps of lead. It felt worse even still knowing there were bills he was not paying for himself, having to depend on his mother for financial stability.   
  
As he pushed the doors open in the late afternoon lull, he could see Lailah primping the display while another employee, the rather deadpanned Uno, was deicing the cooler.   
  
"Door freeze shut again?" Mikleo called, a bag filled with books and a change of clothes slung over his shoulder. The flat stare he received might have been taken as animosity for anyone unfamiliar with the man's usual mannerisms. Could he ever recall another expression gracing his face? He couldn't even remember a time he ever saw his hair down from the usual ponytail, almost giving the impression this statue of a person wasn't actually real at all.   
  
"Yeah...just in time for those ice cream cakes to be inaccessible for little Johnny's birthday party."   
  
"Jason." Lailah amended with soft chirp, though Uno only continued to scrape without correcting himself.   
  
"There's dough thawing at the bread station. Ran out of almond bearclaws this morning." With a soft nod and a shrug of his bag upward, Mikleo prepared to slip into the break room, change into the usual attire, and start with the implied request. It was the owner who stopped him.    
  
"The new employee from Strelka came over to introduce himself today! He was asking about 'your' coffee." The way her eyes lit up and lips curled was oh so telling of how her first impression went. It was also indicative of the kind of response she hoped to gain from him. Honestly, he was a little relieved he'd missed the morning antics, despite a small swelling of pride at his drinks being requested.    
  
"It's not my coffee, I just put it in a cup. Probably tastes the same when you make it." He tried to give a sort of humble chuckle, but her intuition cut through him like a hot knife. Despite giggles and occasional airheadedness, the graceful baker was probably the sharpest at reading into people. Not always a benefit for your boss to have over you.   
  
"Is it? I was sure drinks were one of your specialties. Or did I hire someone else by mistake?"

 

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Mikleo was tossing Lailah a look of feigned intolerance, his familiarity with her by now warranting a playfulness even if they were boss and employee. 

 

“I think I’m getting too much credit. It’s not hard to make coffee, Lailah, even if it’s specifically my job to do so.” He was backpedaling as he spoke, headed toward the bathroom without breaking eye contact with the silver-haired woman.

 

“Well it’s good enough to get a name for itself.” She tweeted, her eyes glimmering with mischief. Mikleo knew this game and with another roll of his eyes, unthreatened by her coy tone, he was swiveling on his foot to finally face forward; waltzing into the bathroom as he spoke.

 

“Whatever it is you want, I don’t want any part in it. I’m just going to do my job.” 

 

He didn’t hear a clever response which should have, looking back on it, concerned him. He didn’t have time to dissect it, however, for barely five minutes after clocking in and tying the soft salmon colored apron around his waist, there was a small rush of students, some he even recognized, that decided to flood their cafe for an afterclass indulgence in treats and coffee.

 

It was easy to get lost in the monotony of preparing drinks, the exhaustion of a day drenched in study leaving muscle memory relatively unaffected. He got into a rhythm, taking orders as they came and making them to perfection which yielded a few snippets of praise from acquainted classmates. He paid little attention to the specifics of who came and who went, caught in the motions and upon handing out the next drink order, he was intercepted from flushing out his steam wand by a lively vocal greeting.

 

“Hi!” 

 

Mikleo startled, making a subtle expression of surprise that he did well to maintain before lifting inquisitive violets. It was natural to regard the one greeting him. But he stared; not the most considerate of things to do, but he didn’t entirely recognize the boy until it struck him like the resounding clang of a gong.

This time around, he couldn’t contain the way he jumped as he met with a vivid pair of eyes the color of moss and a vibrant smile like a crack of sunlight across his face. Mikleo almost found himself squinting, but he was far too preoccupied with the now very present problem.    
  


There was no possible way for him to dodge Sorey now that he had made very direct contact.

There was the possibility that Mikleo could sacrifice all dignity as a respectable human being and ignore him, but even he and all his bitter bias couldn’t bring himself to be so rudely eremitic. His gaze flicked down a moment, breaking eye contact briefly before reconnecting them with purpose.

“Hi.”

There were no customers after him. Mikleo had no feasible excuse to retreat to his work, so he tried to busy himself with wiping down lightly milk spattered countertops; finding messes to preoccupy him when there truly weren’t any.

 

The silence the lingered afterward clung to Mikleo’s conscience, squeezing tighter with the passing moments as he was fully aware this tension was entirely his doing. Luckily the young man didn’t let it last for too long before clearing his throat, that sunshiney smile of his only faltering for a moment as his brows pressed into something a bit more sheepish.   
  
“Ah- um…Sorry – I just figured…you’re Mikleo?”   
  
Before he could assert his better judgment, Mikleo’s fingers raised to gesture toward his nametag, though he gave an awkward upturn to his mouth by the time he finished the motion, realizing it was particularly aggressive of him to not just answer the question. Sorey technically hadn’t done anything to warrant animosity; yet, anyway.   
  
“Oh – yeah – Hah, sorry I didn’t see that – Um, I just wanted to say hello because…Well, I just took Alisha’s place across the street-” Oh, he was well aware of that. “And figured you and I would probably be seeing a lot of each other.”  
  
Was this guy serious…? The disarming airhead routine was really the route he was going to go? His eyes moved down to the boy’s own nametag as he contained the urge to arch his brow. ‘Sorey’. So it wasn’t Soleil then…or maybe it was a weird spelling of it?  
  
“I recognized the blue apron, actually.” Mikleo answered before squaring himself to fully face the young man, though despite his behavior, the smile hadn’t fled the green-eyed trainee’s eyes. For all his pettiness, Mikleo wasn’t going to be completely frigid without provocation.   
  
“Nice to meet you, Sorey.”

 

It was as if the dark curl of a slate sky parted for the break of day. Sorey was beaming, his body visibly perking while his mouth stretched from cheek to cheek forming a dimple on one side. Had he a tail, it certainly would be wagging.

 

“Nice to meet you, too, Mikleo! Finally,” he mused with a soft chuckle, cocking his head and cradling the cup of coffee against himself fervently. “I’ve heard a lot about you so I feel we’ve already met, but I thought it would be better to actually exchange names in person.” He stated it with subtle intention toward humor of the obvious, but it was lost on Mikleo as the violet eyed barista was neither paying attention, nor inclined to believe Sorey capable of a joke that would really amuse him. His ears were too engaged ringing from the mention of him being a topic of conversation. Before he could properly stop himself and snuff out any potential exchange of chit-chat, Mikleo was asking it.

 

“‘Heard a lot’? From...Alisha?” He hoped, with slim possibility, that he did not sound too desperate. Sorey gave no indication he thought so and answered Mikleo honestly.

 

“Mm! Rose as well, and a little from others I’ve spoken with, but mostly Alisha.” 

 

No matter how Mikleo looked at it, there was little he could do from feeling pleasantly abated; Sorey or no. Endeavoring for indifference, though he could feel his face becoming warm with a familiar tingle of contentment, Mikleo adjusted himself and occupied his time with tidying so he wouldn’t flush more than he already was.

 

“Only good things, I hope.” A generic response, but it was safe enough. Sorey, however, actually paused to ponder before giving a jubilant bob of his head.

 

“Yeah, mostly!”

 

Huh?  _ ‘Mostly’?  _

 

Composed as Mikeo attempted to be, he inevitably lifted an incredulous expression to the bright-eyed boy and seriously debated inquiring after the particularly blunt indication of ‘mostly’. Sorey, however, was beating him to the punch.

 

“Oh -- I’m sorry, I have to get back to work. Thank you for the coffee! I’m sure it’ll be delicious~!” He was moving quickly, a hop to his step as he scuttled to the door and paused only to wave in regards, offering an ‘it was nice meeting you’ from afar before slipping out and across the street with only the bells on the door as the final remnants of his presence. 

 

Mikleo was staring slightly agape in the wake of Sorey’s departure, trying to make heads or tails of the ordeal and Lailah, ridiculously, was laughing. 

 

“Wow. You sure shut that kid down.” Uno’s rumbling voice came from where he was leaning against the now pried open cooler. Lailah’s laughter was, at this point, now well concealed with one hand, though her cheeks were rosy with mirth and lashes fluttering mischievously. 

 

“Mikleo doesn’t do well with change.”

Despite their jabs, he hadn’t reacted yet, still caught up in his own thoughts while he watched the chestnut headed newbie jog across the street, holding his arm just so to not jostle the steaming contents of his paper cup.

_ Mostly…?! _

Maybe he’d been making the wrong assumption here. Maybe this guy wasn’t some sort of dopey hippy trying to pick up girls. Maybe he was actually a calculated con man trying to pick up girls. Maybe Sorey had picked up on Mikleo’s standoffishness and responded with the subtle jab disguised as an unrealistic amount of honesty.

His imagination took off as Lailah finally took initiative to change the mood of the conversation, watching the silver haired boy’s brow furrow heavily as he watched after the already disappeared florist

 

“I thought he was charming~ I think Sergei made a very good choice with him, at least in terms of personality. He’s sure to win over a lot of people if the flowers don’t first!” Though her tone felt coaxing, her words only deepened Mikleo’s scowl. Yeah, he sure was charismatic if nothing else. No doubt naïve Alisha would buy into that kind of charm. He probably had won her over by now.

 

With a short huff, he pushed away from his station, reaching out for a washcloth to wipe his hands before wordlessly making his way back to the dough Uno had mentioned upon his arrival. 

 

If he really wanted a clear image of what this guy was like, he’d have to ask the information specialist herself. And Rose would be in at the crack of dawn for three dozen assorted pastries.

 

\--

 

“So you want me to spy on him.”

Mikleo felt his face tingle, a humiliated flush washing over him and tinging the tips of his milky ears red.

“What—no! I said I’d like to figure out his angle!” Mikleo defended, his tone incredulous though the he could hear the words he spoke and how fruitless his argument really was. Rose saw right through him, her expression changing with only a quirk of her brows upward.

“So…you want me to spy on him.” She reiterated, nodding as though to affirm her earlier statement as well as prevent any further deflection from the violet-eyed barista who was now a very pretty shade of rose; ironically. His shoulders sagged, Mikleo pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation as he tried not to raise his voice so early in the morning.

“Rose, no. I don’t want you to spy on him. I wanted to know if you knew anything about him; if I should be concerned…or something.” It really was ridiculous sounding, but Mikleo had been raised to be morbidly curious about the unknown. Sure, people were not usually associated with that category, but Sorey was a special case. Being affiliated with a girl Mikleo would hesitantly admit he was fond of, he felt it more than pressing to verify whether or not this new greenie would take advantage of Alisha’s naivety.

Perhaps it was chivalry gone too far, but Mikleo wouldn’t forget the few times he’d overheard customers speaking of the pretty flower girl from across the way in less than appropriate ways. They had been regulars of his and a few whom he’d grown accustomed to seeing. It hadn’t been a feeling he’d prepared himself for and he’d preferably like to avoid it.

At least, that’s what he told himself. Rose saw the ludicrousness of Mikleo’s concern as though she were viewing an assortment of detritus behind a glass display labeled ‘art’.

Rolling her eyes, she pushed off the wall she had been leaning against and meandered over to the pastry case, squatting to better view the new assortments curiously.

“I don’t know anything about him. But I can certainly find out if you’re ‘oh so concerned’ for Alisha’s innocence.” She cackled at her own joke before tossing Mikleo a knowing look over her shoulder; lips coiled into a little smirk. “You  _ do  _ know she can handle herself. You don’t have to play knight in shining armor when there’s no damsel.”

Mikleo felt himself bristle, his already tingling cheeks now nearly itchy with blood flow.

“I’m not trying to ‘protect her innocence’,” he used air quotes here, screwing his face up in distaste at the dramatic statement, “I just…” he sighed, feeling a bit defeated to admit a fault of his but was determined to endeavor for maturity and face it. “Like Lailah said, I’m not good with change. Also, he’s too…nice.” Mikleo said it as though he’d just bit into a lemon. Rose snorted, though didn’t ruffle his feathers further. The silver-haired boy was a suffering from a minor bout of love sickness he was refusing to acknowledge for his own reasons. She could spare him further distress.

“Fine.” She chirped, springing upright, reaching up to tighten her ponytail before planting her fists on her hips. “I’ll keep an eye on him; see if anything fishy turns up.”

Satisfied, Mikleo’s body of tension slackened as he let out a large breath of air. “Thank you.” He said it with slight exasperation. He was met with the flat of a palm displaying itself to him, Rose’s arm extended with an expectant look in her blue eyes. Mikleo’s violet gaze ping-ponged from her face to her hand before whipping a dubious expression up to her.

“You want me to  _ pay  _ you?!”

She snorted before quirking a brow. “Well, yeah.” She paused a moment, thinking before she pulled her hand back and slapped it on the counter beside the pastry case.

“In coffee. For a month.”

Mikleo’s gaze narrowed.

“Lailah wouldn’t allow it for that long, even if your deliveries are record breaking. One week.”

“It’s not ‘if’, they are. Three weeks.” She leveled Mikleo’s gaze.

“ _ One week.  _ It’s bad enough we let you have pastries without paying most the time.”

Rose, much to Mikleo’s dread, looked like she was having fun.

“That’s not how you do business, Mikleo. Two weeks, or I tell Alisha  _ and  _ Sorey your little scheme.”

Mikleo visibly bristled, like static before a lightning strike.

“It’s not a sche—You know what? Fine. Two weeks.” He glowered, never fond of being played the fool but there was no denying he was at a major disadvantage and Rose knew that well. She grinned, glowing in her mini victory while Mikleo rounded the counter feeling exhausted despite the doors having yet to open. After he wearily tied his apron, he turned around to see Rose staring expectantly at him, blue eyes glittering.

“…What.” He felt as though he were missing something, though Rose appeared as if she knew the rules of the game from the get go.

“What do you mean, ‘what’. I want my coffee.”

Mikleo started, though resolutely kept his mouth from gaping.

“You haven’t done anything yet!”

She shrugged, unperturbed by Mikleo’s frazzled nature.

“Down payment~” She chirped and almost immediately, Mikleo regretted contracting her.

In a way, he knew he deserved it. What he was doing could, if his intentions were misread, could come off as incredibly inconsiderate or stifling, even. Alisha didn't belong to him, nor anyone else. He wouldn't deny a selfish part of himself that didn't want to see her showing interest in another guy, but he knew the much greater part of his hope was truly that she wouldn't be tricked and have her heart broken. 

 

Naive as she seemed to be, she was incredibly capable and intelligent. Likely she wouldn't allow herself to be used in such a way, but she had the tendency to believe in the 'natural goodness' of people as well. This extended to the point where she could put herself out a bit far, exposed to those who had less than honorable intentions.

 

In light of all this, he decided then and there he would drop his icy standoffishness with this new gardener across the street if Rose really could dig up no dirt on him whatsoever. If anyone could spot red flags, it would certainly be her. 

 

After the investigation, it would be in Alisha's hands to choose what was best for herself, and if Mikleo was not in the equation at all...well, he would accept that fact with as much grace as he could muster, knowing he at least fulfilled his desire to protect her solely as a friend. This...Sorey would just have to be given the benefit of the doubt on his rather bizarre personality traits.

 

Having his ultimatum in mind, he set to work on all his daily chores. There was certainly a level of anxiety coupled with the feeling of having essentially hired a private investigator on a stranger across the street, but he also couldn't deny a slow bubbling of exhilaration in his belly. It was certainly the most eventful thing he'd done in...well, months, to be perfectly honest. 

 

Aside from working his daily shift at Wallflour and the daily homework, he didn't have much extra activity that wasn't just reading or exercising. Not to say he was antisocial, he was simply  _ routined _ . Not adjusting well to big change was one thing, but he truly did appreciate adventure once in awhile. The friends he had made seemed just as busy as he, so it was a bit rare he did more than just a few friendly nature walks on occasion. He wasn’t exactly the personality type people jumped on inviting to parties, not that college parties had much appeal to him. And something felt off about enjoying one’s self when you really didn’t even know what your goal after graduation was. 

 

There was a lot that could be said about what caused Mikleo’s lack of extracurricular activity, but it was not something he wanted to focus on for his own comfort, nor did it seem pressing enough to pay more than a few minutes of attention to before being swept up in work or academics. He had the pride of his grades, after all, if nothing else.

 

He’d just have to live through people like Rose or even Lailah; they had all the fun and boundless energy he’d ever need.

The day came and went quickly. A potential interaction with Sorey had been side stepped as Mikleo was pulled away from drink making to do some more elaborate decorating on another rush order. Uno wasn’t much equipped for that kind of work, but he could certainly measure out drinks or follow written recipes.

The next day he had the benefit of class to avoid another morning interaction, but he knew his luck wouldn’t hold out much longer and he’d have to face the boy again the next day. He’d spent his night thrumming the corner of his desk to a random beat, eyes flicking toward his phone every once in awhile when they couldn’t be held on his human development book any longer. Not that he expected Rose to directly contact him about anything; she much preferred delivering news in person. They also weren’t terribly well acquainted outside of work, so the only reason she was even in possession of his number was to be let into the bakery on particularly early morning jobs. His anticipation felt largely misplaced, though he hadn’t been able to shake the mounting feeling. Such left him a bit groggy come morning, still occasionally glancing at his phone before it was tucked away responsibly for his shift.

 

She wasn’t coming in until later that day, so whatever interaction with Sorey were to happen in the morning would have to be done without intel. He’d just have to smile and nod at the green-eyed boy and hope a morning rush would shoo him off quickly back to his side of the street.

 

It appeared as though he would not have to wait terribly long for the anticipated contact, though it was occurring in an unexpected manner.

Lailah approached him mid-shift, Mikleo dutifully refilling espresso beans in the slow of the afternoon, and asked him to make an errand on her behalf. He cast her a skeptical expression as such errands were a variety of sorts and never truly predictable. She’d read him easily and playfully scolded his scornful expression before she was handing him a slip of paper with written detail.

A spring redesign was in order and she had been pondering several different interior decors. Such absolutely called for, of course, an arrangement of flora from their neighbors, though she hadn’t the time nor the tastes for artistically pleasing arrangements that would properly suit her ideas; or so she said. Lailah had a knack for many things good and bad, but Mikleo was quite sure she wasn’t entirely inept when it came to the aesthetics of flowers. The time or lack thereof to dedicate to it, however, was quite believable.

“Alisha’s working today, so tell her I say hello~” Lailah cooed, pretending not to see the way Mikleo lit up. He pulled off his apron and eagerly made his way across the street, briefing the instructive note Lailah had presented him though he couldn’t much pay attention. He felt strangely elated, more so than usual, at the prospect of seeing Alisha as he had almost every day before.

Absence certainly made the heart grow fonder, though he was resolved to maintain composure and not fumble over himself.

There were newer displays for the warmer seasons that had been erected, he noticed; wooden edifices made to house small and large plants alike and tastefully diverse in shape. Some were the shape of honeycomb and Mikleo couldn’t help but take pause to admire the simplistic beauty and the appeal of the design. He was nothing, however, if not fastidious, and righted himself before allowing for further distraction. Briefly taking poise before the glass entrance, he drew a breath and huffed it out before pushing the door open, a familiar chime to greet him as he did so.

The store was quiet, a warm hush of green and spatters of blossoms all different colors peppered about the room. These were for show, plants that could be arranged in the home or on a patio with an assortment of other knickknacks and trinkets to pretty the scenery. Flowers hung from the latticed ceiling, some dried, some living, some in glass terrariums and other hanging arrangements. It always reminded him of the forests in spring, fresh bloom with promising warmth of summer rain. It did little to compare to the actual greenhouse attached to their shop; lush with overgrowth like that of a tropical jungle. Still, Mikleo had to peer around foliage and dangling blossoms to spot a head of flaxen hair and sea-green eyes.

When he did, he could feel his mouth pull upright, stretching at the corners as he made toward her; just barely visible behind an endcap of elephant ears, jade and joseph's coat. He stepped forward with purpose, gleaming, noticing only then that she was engaged in conversation. Though it didn’t take stepping out beyond the leaves to see whom it was she was speaking with, he stopped too late and Sorey came into full view beside her. They looked to be engrossed in speculation of an arrangement of flowers and had yet to take notice of him; Mikleo counting his lucky stars as he was stiffening, drawing his lips into his mouth in tense response and swiveled on his foot to retreat back from whence he came. He could always address Alisha later and when he was more trusting of his disposition not to throw terse looks at an innocent employee simply because he had a weak ego.

Reality checking himself was working somewhat, but as the stars would have it, Alisha had spotted his retreating form and in her bell-like voice that he would have coveted seconds ago, called out to him.

“Mikleo! I didn’t even see you~!”

He bit down the desire to respond that he wished she hadn’t and turned to face her with a reserved smile.

“I didn’t want to interrupt.” He quietly congratulated his own response as it was, honestly, quite close to the truth.  

The young man beside her had also turned his gaze onto Mikleo, thicker, sandy brown brows lifting before a smile swept his lips. Ugh, it made the weight in his stomach even heavier when he acted innocent like that. It disarmed him greatly when he couldn't pinpoint a reason to be cold other than his own selfishness.

 

"Oh, it's alright. We were just discussing some future arrangements, but nothing terribly urgent." She tucked one of the loose curls tickling her cheek back behind her ear, though it looked ready to spring forward at any moment. "Are you here for work? You've got your apron on."

 

He slowly shuffled his way forward, showing himself in more of the light that streamed through the glass ceiling, coming into the little opening where they were currently discussing. There were ribbons and clipping spread across the table, though he couldn't see any bouquets or wreaths currently being designed. His amethyst eyes didn't stray for long, almost pointedly keeping them on Alisha as he could feel the presence of the other pressing in on him, like a dog awaiting the door to be opened to a visitor.

 

He didn't care for dogs.

 

"Yeah, Lailah was looking for some more decorations for the changing season. Sent me with this-" He outstretched his arm once within range, holding the folded paper between slender fingers, comfortably within her reach.

 

"Hey~! It's good to see you again!" The cheery tone finally cut in once deemed polite and appropriate by the speaking party. Mikleo had wished for longer. It already felt too casual. Even if he made a promise to not outwardly be rude, he could set boundaries with his words.

 

"Mm, it was....Sorey...right?" He was more than familiar with the name, though pretending to need a moment to recall it would help to establish the distance of one stranger to another, despite what Sorey  _ thought _ he already knew about him. It worked and his keen observation skills caught the slight body language of someone withdrawing just fractionally. He almost felt sorry when the young man's brows furrowed with what might have been the slightest disappointment. Almost.

 

"Yep!" His voice didn't betray any sort of disappointment even if his posture did. Whatever emotion it was he harbored, it was gone quickly to his regular, dopey grin. Was he wearing feathered earrings?? "Sorry I haven't been able to get more acquainted! Guess we just work pretty different shifts." Hopefully that wouldn't change.

 

Before Mikleo could allow his sour thoughts to run wild, Alisha was lifting her bright eyes to him and waving the small piece of paper he’d handed her; the curl behind her ear having sprung free as he’d predicted.

 

“I’m going to go grab a few samples for Lailah so she can decide which color scheme she’d like. I’ll be right back!” She chirped, tossing Sorey a look that Mikleo couldn’t quite discern in the few seconds it happened, and disappeared into the back room, swallowed in various greens.

 

Mikleo would have reached after her, had he not a shred of decency left and had he truly believed Sorey would not take notice of his obvious apprehension about being left alone together.  But as it stood, Sorey was relatively intuitive and Mikleo was actually trying to keep his barbs to a minimum. Trying.

 

He let a large breath escape him, his body sagging before he was clearing his throat and attempted to preoccupy his attention on the greenery surrounding him with effort to look convincing. Whether or not Sorey could see what Mikleo was trying to do, it made little difference as the fluffy haired boy was taking up the opportunity to talk with little hesitation.

 

“So how long have you been at Wallflour?” 

 

Small talk? Really? He hadn’t pegged the boy to be so simple. Another voice within him snapped at his tendency to ridicule with no validation. Simple or no, it seemed he was predisposed to dislike any topic of conversation with the green-eyed newcomer. 

 

“About two years.” Mikle barely offered a glance in Sorey’s direction, inspecting one of the glass terrariums that housed a variety of succulents to really communicate his desire to  _ not  _ communicate. Sorey didn’t take the bait and continued.

 

“Really? Huh...I feel I definitely should have seen you before, then.” it sounded more like a comment to himself, thus Mikleo took the liberty of not responding and continued to stare at the colorful little plants. One in particular had tips that bled red and faded into a soft emerald at the root; distantly Mikleo pondered the logistics of its origin and just why, exactly, it was colored so.

 

“I like terrariums, too.” Sorey’s voice was closer than before and when Mikleo peered over his shoulder, he was a bit startled to find the boy was no longer behind the counter but had rounded it and perched himself boyishly atop it; legs dangling and hands casually clasped in front of him. 

 

“You have to be careful with them, though. Not all cacti or succulents like to be grouped together and cramped. Plus, they usually need some decent aration. Those particular arrangements don’t have any drainage so you would have to water them pretty minimally.” 

 

Mikleo wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, inclined to think he was attempting to one-up him, perhaps show off, but he argued to give the boy the benefit of the doubt for  _ once.  _ He turned to Sorey briefly, looking at him contemplatively before casting his gaze back to the pretty little arrangement.

 

“I wasn’t thinking of getting it, but I can admire the work put into it.” He remarked, a noncommittal answer, sure, but it was better than what he wanted to reply with, which was likely no response what so ever. Sorey took it as a victory, apparently, as he was grinning large enough to make it obvious even with Mikleo’s eyes turned away from him. 

 

“Do you know where those plants originate?” His question held a fraction of a challenge, but even as Mikleo tried wildly to spin it into something antagonistic, there was nothing if not genuinely good natured. The trick was, he  _ did  _ know where most of them came from but he was tempted to see just how much the boy actually knew and convinced himself it was not with ill intent but a simple curiosity. 

 

“Do you?” He countered, giving no indication that he did or did not know himself and Sorey appeared more than eager to rise to the temptation. 

 

He stepped closer to explain, prompting Mikleo to take a step back to keep the more than comfortable distance between them, not that sharing a room was comfortable by any length.

“Well, that centerpiece one you were eyeing is the ‘Blue Elf’ hybrid of aloe. So where they’re pretty sure the parent plant comes from subtropical regions of Southern Africa, it’s not only been subject to domestic hybridization, it naturally does it on it’s own in the wild to survive.”

 

Arching his brows, the part-time baker had to admit…he was impressed. Though perhaps that was too much credit to give someone who worked with plants all day.

 

“Then the Calico Kitten Crassula here is-“

 

“Also a South African native.” Mikleo didn’t think to hold himself back this time, expecting that if it were a one-up, Sorey would feel a bit deflated in his lesson. The excited sparkle in his green eyes not only shot that notion down, but also prompted Mikleo to distance himself again. 

 

“Yep, though this one is from the eastern cape region. It’s a little more delicate, but about the same amount of drainage and upkeep, aside from needing extra frost protection.” His eyes had swept back to the plant, lifting the tender leaves gently as their vines trailed a bit from their glass home. It was a surprisingly careful gesture from a guy roughly the same age as he.

 

“Did you study botany in school?” Mikleo ventured after clearing his throat, arms folded over the -  _ annoyingly _ \- smaller barrel of his chest. It drew that bright gaze back onto him and he felt he should have face palmed for prompting further interaction.

 

“Oh – uh, no…it’s actually just in an area I’d like to visit some day. Easy to learn about something when there’s a common interest involved, even if I’m no botanist like Boris or Sergei.” 

 

Mikleo was still hung up on the first part of his commentary, thin silvery brows now cinched in the middle as his smooth skin crinkled only lightly. 

 

“You want to visit South Africa? What for?” Most young adults were talking about spring break in Cancun, or if they were more well off, perhaps England or Germany. Sure, the eastern cape of South Africa was another region with European settlements, but not the place for casual vacationing.

There was only the most minute hesitation as Sorey’s stance opened toward him again, though his eyes were darting, expression nearly sheepish in nature. 

 

“Um…well, there’s just a sort of – historical landmark I was interested in. Not that it’s at the top of my list…but it’s for sure a place I’d like to go if I end up living in the area some day.” 

 

… _ What? Living there?! _

Mikleo was already floored, feeling his lips parting and brows relaxing as the information was tumbling about his clever mind already. This…well, it broke most of the traditional stereotypes he’d formulated about the tanned brunette. Unless this was all a show of intelligence to impress, he could tell by the way he spoke there was reserved excitement in his words. What was even more alarming, however, was suddenly coming face to face with something he never expected to share with this kid; common ground.

 

“The ruins of St. Andrews church?” 

 

And just like that, it was as if a dam had broken and Sorey was ready to pour over him any second with every ounce of passion he was reserving on the topic. 

 

“You know about it?!”

 

Almost immediately, Mikleo could feel himself attempt to backpedal out of the situation simply of pure habit, having etched Sorey so negatively it was almost second nature to automatically condemn or recoil from him.  And yet, despite such a honed bias, Mikleo felt equally compelled to engage. He was entirely at a loss, silver lashes fluttering as he cast his violet eyes everywhere but the glitter of Sorey’s emerald gaze.

 

“I-I mean, a little bit -” In his fluster it did not occur to him that he could lie and put an end to it quite quickly. Sorey was too radiant to be disingenuous as flippantly as that. He leaned in, just enough that Mikleo was almost pressed to taking a step back as Sorey came just short of gathering Mikleo’s hands up in his own to shake them giddily.

 

“Then you know about its origins? Why it was built? When it was abandoned?!”

 

He did. Not that it was a ruin in particular he was impassioned about, but he knew. 

 

“I-”

 

“I’ve got the samples~!” Alisha was breaking the conversation that had developed unobstructed against Mikleo’s better judgement, the silver haired barista in a bizarre situation where he was sure he should be grateful for her intrusion (as he certainly would have been a minute prior) but now he was not entirely certain. 

 

Mikleo felt himself almost dizzy, though was quick to breathe himself into poise, his distance from Sorey acceptable and nothing outwardly suspicious detectable. Alisha continued on oblivious, placing a small three ring binder down atop the table along with a few live flowers in tiny clay pots. Sorey was watching her respectably, though as Mikleo chanced a peripheral peak at the boy, he could tell the brunette had other things on his mind now. 

 

Had he a tail, it would have been wagging. Pointedly, Mikleo reminded himself once more that he was not fond of dogs and drew up beside Alisha.

 

“I’ve gathered a few pieces for Lailah, and I figured I could provide some paper samples as well. They’re just a few pictures and brief explanations of the flower but we don’t have them in stock otherwise. If Lailah likes any of them, we’ll be more than happy to order for you!” Focusing on the adorable charm of Alisha was making it exponentially easier to ignore the vibrant coworker just to his left. 

 

Well, maybe not exponentially. 

 

“Yeah, I’m sure that will be more than enough to bring back. Thanks, Alisha. I’ll take the paper ones just so I can get back to the counter before rush.” Normally he wouldn’t cut any interaction with her purposefully short, especially when it came to decorating. He actually enjoyed the task, even seemed to have a bit of a knack for it. But with Sorey’s presence pressing at his back, he knew it was best to make his escape before he got roped into another…distressingly unexpected conversation.

 

Generally, the best samples to bring back would have been hand picked by himself first, but he’d just leave it entirely in Lailah’s hand and skitter back to the safety of the bakery. He couldn’t let a common interest cloud his judgment, wanting to remain as neutral as possible until the intel from Rose arrived. No point in warming up to someone just to find it’s all a cleverly crafted façade. But he certainly was having a much harder time picturing anyone with such a passion for history being a shady skirt chaser. Not that it wasn’t possible, it was just the expression he’d seen on the young man that made its mark. To be able to taste a rare excitement so similar to his own, but only just barely; Mikleo felt all out of sorts.

 

Alisha’s lashes fluttered prettily, blonde brows arched. 

 

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize you were in a big hurry. Sorey, do you mind just helping Mikleo bring ba-”

 

“No-” He nearly choked out, feeling both gazes swing to him as it seemed Sorey had been just about to pounce on the opportunity, whether that was just as an escape from the usual chores or if, god forbid, it had anything to do with him personally. “That – I’m totally fine getting it over there myself. I don’t wanna disrupt anyone’s work-”

 

_ Damn _ . 

 

He could feel the color on his face already. Knowing it was there only made it worse.

 

“Oh, I don’t mind. I could just run it there and back really fast.” Mikleo swallowed hard as Sorey spoke so close to his side and he tried to make his sliding step back not horribly obvious. Sorey’s eyes followed the scuff of his feet and he knew he had failed. The boy didn’t come any closer.

 

“I got it – It’s no trouble. I appreciate it, though.”

 

Mikleo, if nothing else, prided himself on intuition. He could tell the manner in which Sorey withdrew had successfully quelled his initiative to help. He could also tell Sorey’s own intuition had picked up on his blatant apprehension that was likely unrelated to the situation and perhaps the result of previous distaste. His expression became somewhat reserved; the glint to his green eyes dissipating and with a severity that surprised the silver haired boy, even guilt struck him.

He was quick to avert his gaze, his attention promptly turning back to Alisha as he felt his heart twist with the inelegance of the tangibly stressed situation. However, he had made his bed and he had to lie in it.

“I’ll come back sometime soon with Lailah’s decisions.”  

Alisha provided him a pleasant nod before offering to see him out, a gesture that Sorey pointedly did not partake. That left Mikleo feeling quite responsible, yet he could only muster a pang of guilt if nothing else.

At the very least, he was certain Karma would seize its opportunity sooner or later.

Once they stepped outside the shop, Mikleo was taking a breath to clear his head, turning a soft gaze to the girl beside him while he cradled the flowers and paper samples in his arms.

“Thanks again for your help, Alisha. I appreciate it..”

Beaming, she shook her head to dismiss his praise, humble as ever and radiant in her disposition.

“Not at all~ It’s always nice to see you.” Mikleo could feel his heart swell, quick to avert his eyes though he couldn’t prevent the rosiness of his ears. Alisha, however, had more to discuss it seemed as she was tilting her chin and speaking a bit softer than before.

“Is everything alright…? You seemed a bit flustered a moment ago.”

Alisha was steadfast and forthright. She was a determined worker and always stayed true to herself. She wasn’t, however, terribly perceptive when it came to social insinuations and subtextual cues. Thus, Mikleo was a bit startled before immediately feeling abashed at how obvious he must have been for her to pick up on it.

“O-Oh, no, I’m alright. I was just…a bit overwhelmed at Sorey’s energy.” He couldn’t lie outright, but the truth was admittedly shameful. He had his own issues to work with, but the damage had been done.

Alisha was smiling then, laughing lightly before she tilted her head to the side. “Sorey can be quite energetic if the situation calls for it.” She agreed with obvious fondness to her voice. At the very least, Mikleo owed it to be courteous when everyone else had been at least that much with him.

“Mm. He seems nice.” It was the best he could offer at the moment, but it was more than enough apparently. Karma decided to make its move, a bolt of lightning dead center, as Alisha’s expression changed just enough. Her eyes softened, her pink lips pulled up and her lashes fluttered down in a manner that could only be attributed to a shyness of affection, lest Mikleo desperately try to equate it to something else.

“He is. Very nice.” She amended and it didn’t take Mikleo’s keen intuition to know that was a reserved statement for her. By the pink of her cheeks, ‘very’ nice was an understatement and Mikleo was doing everything in his power to weather karma’s tempestuous counter.

Suddenly, he was extremely eager to see Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for picking the story up everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the second chapter and please leave feedback! We love to hear what you guys think.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Mm. He seems nice.” It was the best he could offer at the moment, but it was more than enough apparently. Karma decided to make its move, a bolt of lightning dead center, as Alisha’s expression changed just enough. Her eyes softened, her pink lips pulled up and her lashes fluttered down in a manner that could only be attributed to a shyness of affection, lest Mikleo desperately try to equate it to something else._
> 
>  
> 
> _“He is. Very nice.” She amended and it didn’t take Mikleo’s keen intuition to know that was a reserved statement for her. By the pink of her cheeks, ‘very’ nice was an understatement and Mikleo was doing everything in his power to weather karma’s tempestuous counter._
> 
>  
> 
> _Suddenly, he was extremely eager to see Rose._

The loud slurp that resounded in the quiet of the dimmed shop was clearly intentional.  

Again, Rose was lounging against the counter, on the cashier's side of it, with her free coffee in hand and a half eaten cranberry muffin in the other. Everything about her cozy behavior rubbed him the wrong way, yet Mikleo had no choice but to accept it as she was milking it for all it was worth. She held the information he so craved, after all, and her lazy, fat cat like movements wouldn't let him forget that.

Her lips smacked, eyes casting down into the cup as if inspecting its quality. Clearly it was suitable by the hum that followed, though she made no indication of giving Mikleo what he wanted just yet.

His own arms were folded, twisted across his chest so tightly it would have made white marks in his skin were he not already so pale.

"Well?" 

He hated that he had to coax it from her. It was a game of keep away he knew she was determined to drag out until satisfied fully. She really was like an alley cat. A shame really; he normally was at least somewhat fond of cats. But only the ones that didn't hiss or scratch....or withhold information he'd _paid_ for. Her expensive taste in coffee was coming out of _his_ paycheck, after all.

".... _Rose_ -" 

"Hold your horses. Can't I have a few relaxing sips before you shake me down?" Each word was spoken deliberately into the rim of her paper cup, carrying the air of being lackadaisical, but Mikleo knew well every move was calculated down to a single dime, or his last ounce of patience. 

His foot tapped and the near silence dragged on. Just as he opened his mouth to tell her to either give him the information or at least let him get back to work, she drained her cup with a satisfied huff. 

"So!" The silver haired boy nearly jumped as she slapped her cup down on the freshly polished surface. "How have your interactions with the ball of sunshine himself been? Learn anything new?"

 

The muscles of his mouth likely couldn't become much more tense than they already were. His eyes would be closed if his expression deadpanned any further. 

"That's kinda what I've been paying you for." 

“What? Wait, really?” 

Mikleo gave her a flat stare that leveled her facade, Rose dropping the act and snickering a bit before the boy rolled his eyes in exasperation. 

“Alright, seriously though.” Mikleo wasn’t fond of being lead by the nose.

Rose gave a noncommittal shrug, and had she a cigar, Mikleo was certain that would be the time she’d take a large drag of it. She meandered over to the trash and ceremoniously dunked the now empty coffee cup into it. 

“I was just curious if you knew anything yourself, is all.” She said it innocently, Mikleo more than aware that there was nothing innocent about it. Briefly, he was brought back to the conversation he’d had with the boy, all glowing eyes and wide smiles, like the rush of a river after a heavy rain, once he’d found a very niche common ground with the bakery boy across the street.

Shaking his head and clearing his throat, he rid the memory quickly and let out a huff of air. 

“Nothing of consequence. Now I can tell you know something, so please, _grace_ me with your knowledge.” He was tired of playing ring around the rosie. Rose, however, felt quite comfortable as she toyed with a lock of her wine colored hair.

“Keep talking like that, I won’t tell you jack shit.” She warned, but it was a relatively obvious she endeavored a playful mood. Mikleo, wheeling his eyes once more, turned and decided he could work and listen simultaneously at least. Rose was dead set on dragging things out and he wasn’t keen on shirking duties. Work was a good medium to distract himself if nothing else.

As he began to pull out trays from the refrigerator, setting small balls of dough down atop the counter to warm, Rose was finally initiating.

 

“I did find out something. Honestly, though, I’m not exactly sure how you’ll take it.” Her tone was, for once, not indicative of anything aside from truly not being able to predict Mikleo’s reaction. He sent her a bizarre expression over his shoulder, nose scrunching. 

“That’s pretty vague…” his response was wary, not sure if he should brace for something strange or something honestly unbelievable.

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of a game ch-” She didn’t get to finish as the very abrupt and obnoxious jingle of her cell was interrupting her, the blue eyed girl dutifully plucking it from her pocket to observe before taking the call; all business with her while Mikleo silently fretted and willed his worries into kneading dough while watching Rose peripherally.

"Bad news, Dezel's got a rush job, so this'll have to go on hold." Mikleo didn't know much about her business partner, not other than his rather short, gruff attitude the few times they'd ever spoken on the phone, but he knew he was not pleased with her ducking out just as she was revealing such a potentially 'juicy' bit of info. 

"Wha-- Wait, at least tell-" He practically had to duck as she snatched up the rest of her muffin and vaulted right over the counter with ease, earning a small squawk from the ruffled baker.

The door swung open with a sharp chime of the bell and she was saluting him from inside the doorway.

"Don't worry! I'll be back after your morning rush. Catch you later, Mikleo!"

And before his cheeks could even heat with frustration, she was tearing off on her bike, expertly swerving around the sparse pedestrians and into the street, cart bumping along behind.

She was definitely something else, though he wasn't sure he even liked that something else. She was sly, truly the perfect personality for a successful business woman, as she was. But even if she could be cheap at times, her services were always fair, despite the sort of choke she had on him at the moment. Although...these services he contracted her for were definitely out of the scope of her basic and usual deliveries. 

With fingers pinching the bridge of his nose (and leaving a small thumbprint of flour in their wake), he knew he would just have to be patient with this one.

But something she wasn't sure he'd like...? It definitely couldn't be anything good with that kind of introduction. Despite his less than noble way of going about it, was his intuition about this guy really correct? The overly chipper and sort of air-headed attitude, was it a cover for something? He felt his eyes drawn to the window again, lips pulled up in a tight pout, though he knew well he wouldn't see anyone outside the shop just yet, lest it be Boris or Sergei coming in for early morning inventory, deliveries or paperwork.

He couldn't trust Sergei not to be fooled by kindness. Despite his hulking build and the heavy, almost angry set to his brows, the man was doughy on the inside...no pun intended. His twin was potentially a bit sterner, but for the most part they seemed largely to share the same traits, the most obvious being big hearted.

That was made painfully obvious when Mikleo, one fateful summer afternoon, caught sight of something stirring in one of the baskets at the greenhouse, something that almost took years off his life when he noticed what it truly was the first time.

He called it the Crypt Keeper, but Sergei's tiny, nineteen year old chihuahua (so he'd been told) was inherited from his late grandmother years ago. Sergei had mentioned a thing or two about not wanting to let it go to a shelter at it’s age, though it was holding on for an impossibly long time; far beyond what either brother had truly anticipated when taking it in. 

It was certainly…alive, at the very least.

Shaking out his fluffy, silvery hair, he gave a puff at them to rid from his eyes the silky canopy and centered his thoughts. The store opening wouldn’t delay because he had gotten distracted. But that wouldn’t stop him from turning over all the possibilities of what kind of potential predator Sorey could actually be as he went about filling coffee, setting out fresh goods in their respective cases and greeting Lailah as she came in with arm loads of new decorations for their summer sales.

He hadn’t anticipated actually hearing more information about the boy shortly after they opened, his ears picking up keywords from a few girls he was currently packing up fresh bagels for. It wasn’t eavesdropping if they weren’t being quiet about it, so he listened in shamelessly.

“That’s the guy from the climbing gym?? The one putting out flowers across the street? I thought they looked the same!”

Knowing for a fact that both Sergei and Boris often were not at the forefront of customer service in their job and being relatively certain they were not attendees of the rock climbing gym in town, Mikleo used the process of elimination to ascertain that those girls were, indeed, talking about Sorey.

The boy had become a strange constant in his life since he’d first appeared a month (or had it been longer now?) ago and he was a bit perturbed by his own mild obsession. Some was certainly attributed to his attraction and how Alisha as a variable was the linchpin, but even Mikleo couldn’t deny it was odd. Sorey had a strange gravitational pull that he was vehemently trying to resist.

He continued to listen with an impressive poker face. It was not odd that their patrons would come in with word of their neighboring employees, and especially when spring was giving way to summer. Their work bounced off one another after all, and Alisha had told him of the times she’d come across her clients that would be talking of him as well.

They were never bad, often times complimenting his capability with chilled drinks and sometimes the pretty composition of his face, but he couldn’t be bothered with such trivial matters.

“I hadn’t talked to him until today. I always see him at the gym but I was too intimidated to approach him. But he’s really sweet! I can’t believe he works at a flower shop!” There was a burst of small giggles, finding obvious charm in the fact while another was playfully bumping shoulders with her friend.

“Time to take up gardening.” Another bout of frisky snickers while the girl being teased rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink; cheeks betraying her as they were the soft color of a ruddy tulip.

It was not within Sorey’s control what women thought of him, but even so, the violet eyed barista was grimacing. More than one girl thought he was good looking, and that alone did things to an ego.

The conversation continued, though with the hum of voices through the bakery, it wasn’t easy to dissect a single conversation and get full sentences. He thought he heard something about discounts and free greenery, and where Mikleo was sure, somewhat subconsciously, that the boy wouldn’t simply give their wares away free of charge for the sake of a good round of flirting, the notion that it was possible erected itself within him and planted its roots.

He had noticed that, after Mikleo had returned with the flower samples for Lailah, Sorey had made it a point to remain respectfully distant; providing Mikleo with a smile and a wave on occasion, but had not engaged him in extended conversation since. Grateful as Mikleo was, it made it exceptionally difficult to justify his already ridiculous bias, something he knew well, but was too proud to correct. It also further fanned the flames of his curiosity of just what it was Rose had garnered about the boy that would turn Mikleo’s opinion (potentially) on a dime.

It was past noon and she had not returned.

The bell was ringing, Mikleo lifting his gaze habitually to note who was entering and visibly stilled as Alisha was stepping in, trailed by none other than Sorey. There was a swell of energy from the girls before and Mikleo did his best to ignore any implication of the two of them spending time together when Alisha had become notably scarce with her new internship.

Where the _hell_ was Rose.

They were approaching rather quickly and though he contemplated making an escape to let Lailah or Uno take over serving, Alisha called his name specifically with a wave, voice sweet like a bell and polite as always.

“Mikleo~ I’m glad we caught you!” Unlike the other interactions he’d had when Sorey first began, the boy stayed one step behind her, his normally beaming smile reined in some, though he did nothing more to interact other than what was the equivalent of paying mannerly attention. Even behind her, he was still a good head taller, so it did not occlude his vision any.

_Fuck._

His hand raised in greeting as he cursed inwardly. Left with his lack of information, he was entirely unprepared for interacting with the both of them. Not to mention with the way their aprons were off, button down uniforms in a more casual state of dress, they had either gotten off a shift or were on a break. Hopefully that wouldn’t cause this interaction to stretch on longer than the usual five-minute exchange.

He only had the slight buffer of a few more customers in line before them and as such, took a few more seconds than usual to attempt at centering himself. It wasn’t going well. His mind kept spitting out scenarios were Sorey would swoop in, scoop up woman like some sort of cat burglar, then run off into the night with his fake interest in history and succulents to woo his bounty before ridding of them...

 

Mikleo bit into the plush of his lower lip, brows set and spine prickling. He hadn’t even gotten through everyone in line before there was a much-needed interruption, though the manner of it was not exactly desirable. One of the girls at the table he’d overheard before they came in, both members having since reverted to frantically texting back and forth to each other while their eyes lingered on the taller of the florists, had gotten up to approach him; seemingly wary of Alisha’s presence, but not entirely deterred as she and Sorey shared a uniform.

“Excuse me-” She piped up, but that was the last of what he was able to hear before the door swung in again, snapping all the threads of tension as a loud, familiar voice carried through the shop.

“Heeeey! Alisha, Sorey! Fancy meeting you here during lunch!” 

Goddammit, Rose’s timing was _impeccable_.

Mikleo was almost inclined to believe she’d hid out somewhere, waiting for the two to come in before she made her own grand entrance. Her company logo was printed proudly across her shirt, a cap over her ponytailed hair now as the sun had become more intense with the change in season. Somewhere in his head he noted that Alisha and Sorey would probably have a change in uniform soon as well for the warm weather.

His silver hair shook out, realizing he was getting side tracked once more, brain particularly fried with all this excitement. Asking Rose outright clearly wouldn’t work with the employees from Strelka’s Sunroom present.  But even knowing that, after introductions were exchanged and Sorey politely informed Rose he’d been addressed by another first, Mikleo could see the mischievous blue eyes pinning him down from across the room. 

“Just a second, Alisha. Gotta box up some donuts for another delivery.” Her body slid behind the counter, at home as ever in the space she was not technically allowed in, and tossed one of the sliding drawers right open to the display. Before Mikleo could squawk over her unprofessional behavior, she slid an envelope to him, presumably filled with money as it also had an order sheet stapled to it, filled out by a delivery client of hers.

Not missed by his keen observation, there was also a note tucked just underneath, eclipsed by the order, though a gentle lift of the corner between pinched fingers and Mikleo could feel sweat prickle at his brow.

 

‘ _She asked him out_ ’.

As unceremoniously as that, a rock dropped in his gut, though his eyes shot to the young man as he could see him interacting quite exuberantly with one of the other girls that approached him, his energy having picked up considerably from when he’d first entered. Alisha and Sorey were an item and he was actively _flirting_ in front of her?! 

Mikleo whipped amethyst eyes wide with incredulity to Rose who, at the moment, was preoccupied with her order, leaving Mikleo in his solitary rage. There was little he could do to change or fix the situation as it were and it wasn’t Rose’s responsibility to do anything, even if she _did_ derive some enjoyment from Mikleo’s suffering.  

He couldn’t stare, eyes armed with knives sharpened to cut, at the infuriating scene unfolding before him as he was certain customers would question. Perhaps more than that, honestly, but Mikleo was too indignant to fathom much else.

Alisha was next in line, sweet as she ever was and didn’t seem terribly phased by Sorey’s exuberant conversation; which only stoked the flames licking at Mikleo’s insides even higher. She placed her order, pleasant and courteous, and when she had to turn back to politely get Sorey’s attention as it was his turn to order, Mikleo had to noticeably force himself to not bare teeth.

It was the final straw when, after Sorey put in his order, Alisha was the one to pull out her wallet and pay. It did not matter to the alabaster baker boy that Sorey had quickly dismissed Alisha’s good intentions at first, pulling out his own small wallet well worn and just holding together. Alisha was the one who ended up paying, and Mikleo would have none of it.

Alisha’s drink had become second nature by now, a simple iced, almond milk latte with white chocolate mocha and nutmeg powder. He didn’t have to look up to reference the order when it came out before he was finishing the recipe and placing it on the hand out counter. Often, he would indulge in brief conversation with her upon delivering her drink, but he was far too distracted to partake in such simple pleasantries.

Next was Sorey’s drink.

It was simple, which pissed Mikleo off; a small reasoning that it would have angered him even if it were complicated was lost to him. Iced coffee with a pump of toffee nut and cream. Through the soft fringe of his silver bangs, he peered at the chestnut haired boy as he was contentedly conversing once more.

He looked back down at the drink order and pondered for a moment longer before he placed the cup under the nozzle for toffee nut and pumped. Then, he placed it under mocha, and pumped. Next came vanilla, caramel, chai, peppermint... _lots_ of peppermint. Nearly every flavor along their drink bar was added to the concoction, Mikleo only taking pause at those flagged with allergy warnings. He wished to sabotage Sorey, but as an intellectual; he wasn’t a savage.

The irony of the thought he quickly dismissed.

The sick satisfaction he cultivated the moment he placed the drink down was borderline nauseating; coasting off the high of something subtly devious that would, ultimately, do little in the end. He watched with wild eyes mad with pleasure when Sorey grasped the drink and made off to sit with Alisha. Mikleo was quite assured he looked insane to any onlooker, but he didn’t much care. It was only when Rose bumped shoulders with him did he startle out of his manic persona; jumping a bit and primping himself when Rose snickered.

“Yeah, so, she asked Sorey out.” it seemed Rose simply wanted to say it as writing it wasn’t enough.

“Yeah. I can read, Rose.”

He could practically feel her eyes rolling without having to see them. He didn’t have any patience for toying, gaze still fixated on Sorey as he appeared to be swirling the contents of the cup, hoping to mix its contents marginally.

“Yeah, but that’s not the info I wanted to give you. I just wanted to let you think about how you hadn’t jumped on the opportunity yourself – but I guess you’ll still have a chance.” 

That drew him somewhat from his one-man staring contest. A chance? He wasn’t about to pry two people apart just so he could ask her out instead….though prying them apart for other reasons seemed much more appealing at the given moment.

“You said they were together.” He clarified with eyes squinted, hearing more tittering from the girls as they were finally packing up their own things, waving in what they probably felt was an alluring manner to Sorey as they waltzed to the door.

Rose sputtered her lips, sealing up the box she’d arranged with her hand-picked choice of donuts with a final piece of scotch tape.

“I thought you said you could read. I said she _asked_ him. I didn’t say he said yes.” Though her volume was just at the right level to be casual with Mikleo without being heard by customers, it still put him on edge talking about them as if they weren’t across the room. Tension aside, he couldn’t help but gape, back straightening, eyes becoming rounder the wider they got.

“Wh—but – didn’t he??” Who in their right mind would say _no_ to a girl like her?!

It only took a single shake of her head before terror and anger were both clashing violently inside his chest like feral cats. On one hand, how dare he?! What business did he have shooting down such a pretty, intelligent, kind young woman with a promising future?? Was she not _desperate_ enough? Was she not _easy_ enough? He was sick to think of anyone pressuring her sexually. 

But on the other hand, he certainly had just tampered with the drink of a guy who had no obligation to Alisha and thus had no moral obstacle to flirt. 

Still, he could argue it was in incredibly poor taste to be doing it in front of a girl he’d shot down. So why wasn’t Alisha reacting like he thought she might? Whether she was good at reserving her emotions or not, it was inhuman to not respond at all to having your feelings trampled on in front of you. 

It all hinged on what further elaboration Rose could provide. He startled as her knuckles came in contact with the middle of his forehead, jolting him just enough to hone his attention. 

“No, dummy. Haven’t you picked up on anything while being around him for a month?!” it didn’t make sense. She and Alisha were friends, or friendly enough that he knew Rose wouldn’t take kindly to seeing Alisha used or simply cast aside in a toxic friendship. So what was it he was missing here? What could possibly explain this behavior, or even her own behavior. Nothing seemed to- 

“Oh, for crying out – Mikleo, he’s **_gay_ **.”

Across the room, there was a sudden choking sound, the squeak of a chair and Alisha’s urgent voice calling out the new florist’s name in slight concern. Sorey had taken the first gulp of his botched drink and Mikleo’s blood couldn’t have turned to ice any faster. 

With fresh horror, Mikleo was snapping his gaze out to the lobby, immediately pinpointing Sorey as he sported an expression almost pained after taking a sip of his drink. There was virtually no way for the barista to reclaim the drink before more damage happened, at least, not without making more of a scene. Rose, ever perceptive, narrowed her eyes at Sorey inquisitively before she was careening her piercing blue eyes to Mikleo beside her in an accusatory manner, which was putting it politely.

The violet eyed boy was ashen and had to physically restrain from calling out to the two as Alisha, concerned and confused, took a tentative test sip of the drink herself; a secondary blow to effectively decimate Mikleo’s attempts at payback and throw it back at him full force. Alisha was worse at containing her expression of disgust than Sorey, but she was quickly slapping a hand over her mouth while Sorey abashedly stood and made his way back to the counter.

Mikleo wanted to run, for the earth to split open and swallow him alive, but Rose had snaked a particularly strong arm around his shoulders and held him in place. It was equally restraining as well as supportive, as the barista could feel his knees wanting to buckle beneath his rather meager weight.

Sorey was upon the counter sooner than Mikleo was prepared, which at this point may not have been for a handful of hours, his expression sheepish as he seemed terribly at odds with troubling the barista who, up until this point, had made nothing but spectacular beverages.

Mikleo wanted to bash his head into the glass of the pastry case.

“Um, I’m sorry, I think…I think there might have been a mistake…?”

“Oh? What’s wrong?” Rose was speaking, Mikleo having lost his voice and, well, the girl seemed eager to rub his devious behavior in his face.

Sorey, politely humble, was hesitant to admit what he found wrong with the drink, his brows furrowing before he cleared his throat and attempted to graciously describe the issue.

“I…I think there may be some flavors in this that shouldn’t be?” Quickly, he was lifting his hands to wave them dismissively, hoping to retract whatever damage his confession may have caused. “I’m sure it’s an honest mistake! I just… I didn’t want it to happen to someone else. Not—that it would! Your drinks are fantastic!” Sorey was making a heroic effort to not offend and Mikleo had become a chameleon of various reds and pinks; flushing to the tips of his ears.

“I can remake it for you-” it was a miracle his voice did not crack. Sorey looked embarrassed, though his brows were upturned in a grateful manner.

“I’m sorry…”

Mikleo fervently shook his head, not daring to make eye contact as he sputtered.

“P-Please don’t apologize – ” and before he could make more of a fool of himself, which would be terribly impressive as he’d never sunk so low before, he was retreating to the bar to remake the drink he had royally and intentionally ruined; Rose’s lethal gaze on him all the while.

It took seconds to remake, a simple drink as he remembered, and he placed the freshly made beverage down on the counter with his gaze pointedly aimed to the floor. There was nothing he could do to hide the vibrant blush he was sporting and he knew, suddenly hyper aware of Sorey’s disposition, that the boy was going to mistake his shame for humiliation of his performance.

“Ice coffee with toffee nut and cream…right?” Again, his voice did not crack and strangely Mikleo wished that it had. He wished someone could appear and slug him in the gullet, but karma was rarely executed to take burden from the perpetrator. This was going to be slow and painful.

"Yeah." He could tell Sorey's words were spoken with a comforting smile even without looking at him. Why had he let this sort of deplorable behavior take hold? Why did Sorey shake him so much?

 

"Hey, um-" The young man hadn't retreated back to his seat with Alisha as he might have hoped, leaving Mikleo with his shame and Rose's metaphorical chokehold. "Here - We all have little hiccups sometimes. Honestly, your work is really great and clearly a lot of people like you and come specifically for your drinks. Don't let it get you down."

Within a few moments, Sorey had taken out the tattered wallet he'd seen him produce before, slipping a few bills from it's contents to fit into the flowery tip jar Lailah had created herself. Sorey had no idea how his kind of support really just made Mikleo want to throw himself into oncoming traffic. Despite his icy behavior, despite intentionally sabotaging him, Sorey was making an effort to show him compassion without stifling, taking his quiet leave then to return to Alisha's table.

“Sooo...” He didn’t want to hear it, but he knew he deserved every ounce of Rose’s verbal lashing to come. He turned his back to the café tables and covered his face in his hands. “First time I’ve seen someone get tip money for _poisoning_ someone.” 

“It wasn’t – I didn’t mean to –”

“Poison him? Oh, I’m sorry. Ruin the drink Alisha bought for him because you’re a jealous man child?” He flinched as she nailed his behavior dead center. There was no excuse this time; that’s exactly what it was. If what she was saying was true, this womanizing hack of a person that he made Sorey out to be didn’t exist at all…and he’d been cruel simply out of feeling he was a _threat_.

“Boy, I haven’t seen karma hit that hard in a while. Oh, but wait-“ Rose nearly bounced back, away from the counter with a hop, holding her package of donuts in hand, though she plucked up a different pastry all together. “I’ve got a better plan for all that coffee you still owe me~”

Mikleo’s eyes only dared to lift as he could feel Rose waiting for full attention before delivering her final blow. God, could he just go home and wallow in his guilt, already? His stomach was eating itself; roiling with guilt while the reasonable side of his brain couldn’t stop chastising himself with less than appropriate words.

“You’re gonna give that full last week of free coffee to Sorey instead for your shitty behavior. In person. I did my snooping and that kid is actually a real saint, if those types really exist anymore. So just let that sink in.” And with that she turned on her heel, swung around the edge of the counter, and delivered the pastry right to Sorey’s place at the tabletop. And just to put icing on the payback cake, when Sorey turned inquisitive eyes to her, clearly asking what the gift was about, Rose gave a glittering smile and swept her hand right toward Mikleo. A gift; to say sorry for the mixed up drink order from the barista himself. 

Mikleo wanted to eat his own hands as green eyes turned to him, mouthing a genuine ‘thank you’ before he settled back down in his seat to finish his pleasantries with Alisha while Rose marched back out to work.

When it came time for Alisha and Sorey to depart, Mikleo couldn’t bring himself to watch them go, heaven forbid interacting with them should they feel the need to say goodbye. He was ducking into the back until he was certain it was safe to emerge; lucky to find he hadn’t kept anyone waiting for him at the front. It seemed to be the only luck he’d have for the day. 

He wished he could smack his skull against the countertop for the remainder of his shift, though that would likely draw unwanted attention if nothing else. He had no one to blame but his deplorable disposition, animosity unjustifiable and ultimately inexplicable.

Needless to say, the rest of work remained excruciatingly slow for him and where he had previously kept his eyes trained on the lush store across the way, he was pointedly avoiding any and all sight of it. Even come time for closing, he attempted to keep his back to the windows as much as possible. His cheeks were stained a permanent pink, humiliation tattooed across his face like a brand of shame that he had no one else to thank for save himself.

He was locking the front door, Lailah and Uno having left for the day and leaving him the duty of closing up. Usually he preferred the quiet responsibility appointed to him, but he felt too sick to his stomach and weak of heart to feel pride in it now. He turned the key, hearing the slide of the bolt before he let out a long breath and knocked his forehead against the glass of the front door; a distinct little jingle of the bell sounding inside when he did so.

"That's going to leave a smudge." 

"AH!"

Mikleo nearly jumped out of his skin, the hush of dusk and day well over having been severed by the voice of Rose lacking all compassion. The barista whirled around, rigid and on edge as the delivery girl stood poised with one hip popped and a brow quirked as though she was amused but not enough to smile. Letting out a weary breath, Mikleo's body shed itself of tension and nearly sagged against the door. 

"I don't know why you'd be worried about it. I'd be the one to clean it up..." He was hiking up the small bag he'd brought onto one shoulder, hesitant to make eye contact but feeling too abashed to look down. 

"There's a lot more than that you've gotta clean up." Rose wasn't pulling any punches. Letting out a heavy sigh, his brows cinching, Mikleo was pinching the bridge of his nose and weathering Rose's reprimands.

"Listen, Rose, I know I made an ass of myself-" 

"Damn straight." 

He had to bite his lip to keep from storming off, feeling threadbare and frayed at the edges but again, he deserved it. Swallowing, he continued. 

"...But it's been a long day." 

Rose didn't look at all convinced to lay the topic to rest, even gave the violet eyed boy an incredulous look before she was huffing and swung her hips to the opposite side like a pendulum. Miraculously, however, she decided not to dig her claws in further; making a point, however, to keep them embedded all the same. 

"Fine. But you're going to give that boy my coffee like I said." She turned and walked to her bike, kicking up the kickstand and planting her palms on the handles. "I'll watch you like a hawk to make sure you keep up your end of the bargain." Mikleo wanted to roll his eyes but couldn't find the energy to do even that. Even if he were to defend himself, to say that he wasn't so terrible as to go back on their deal simply because he made himself the fool, he knew he was outweighed in evidence to the contrary. 

"I know, Rose." It was all he could really offer, dropping the keys into his bag and making to sulk off before Rose was ringing her bike bell, and when Mikleo peered over at her with weary inquisition, she cocked her head behind her to the platform designated for larger deliveries. 

"Hop on. I'll give you a lift." 

A whole argument formed in his head, a whirl of conflicting emotions clashing in his chest as he cast her a disbelieving expression, but she did nothing other than stare vigilantly back at him. He didn't exactly deserve a kind gesture, but he felt at this point it would be even more discourteous to turn it down.

With a large breath, Milkeo walked over to her, his eyes cast down now with his long lashes catching the luminous glow of the moon. He sat gingerly, though he weighed so little, it made no difference before Rose was kicking off and Mikleo had to clutch the base of the seat to keep himself balanced.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for checking out our silly story! Please leave a comment about your thoughts and I hope you continue to enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

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Drawn by the lovely [Nami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/croixsouillees/pseuds/defragmentise)!!

* * *

 

 

Of all the lessons Mikleo had learned, none rang truer than he had only himself to blame; or perhaps don’t judge a book by its cover.

 Feelings of unrest and being ill at ease resided still after a somewhat restless sleep. It followed him through his morning classes, all the way up to his afternoon and only then was he given some reprieve, weights lifting slightly as he crossed the threshold to his usual seat toward the front.

 His favorite class; the Philosophy of Death and Dying. It sounded like a morbid topic to have as his favorite, but it wasn't so much the subject as it was the teacher that really snagged his interest.

 The professor was already at the front of the room. He was an elderly man with slightly slumped shoulders, long, snowy hair drawn back in a low tie, looped into a bun. Some pieces would occasionally sneak from that bun, falling in wisps in front of his ears, but he was always neatly dressed. His brows were low, practically eclipsing his eyes, though he didn't seem to suffer any for it. He didn't even wear glasses unless he was presented with particularly messy script. It almost seemed like a scolding if he had to put on the bifocals to decipher what you wrote, though Mikleo himself never faced the plague of poor penmanship.

 His goatee was paid the most attention, it seemed; well trimmed and tapered down into a point with some sort of pomade or wax, presumably. But most notable of all his features was likely his height. He was a tiny man, probably only coming to Mikleo's belly button, which was quite impressive considering 5'5" was hardly _towering_. But even with a body so small and an appearance so old fashioned and unassuming, he had the presence of a man pushing seven feet. He was not mean or necessarily loud, just...powerful, somehow; a man with the impression of a mountain.

 There was no doubt he contained boundless knowledge, though still retained the nurturing any good professor concerned for his students would. Like a parent would.

 Mikleo was well aware of those around that liked to mock the professor or claimed he was a frosty old codger, in less than appropriate words, of course, but it was his sternness and the depth of his intellect that drew Mikleo to him as a professor in the first place. He enjoyed what he taught and wanted to see his students do well.

 The real shame was that he taught so few classes, already being in partial retirement. Mikleo's own mother had taken classes with Zenrai when she was a young university student, but he'd long since cut down his academic load. They'd be losing one of the best when he finally decided to take on retirement in its entirety.

 "Meebo." A flat, feminine voice sounded from just beside him, punctuated by the thunk of a particularly clunky pair of rainboots against his seat.

 Just when he was starting to feel relaxed again...

 He didn't turn to face her fully, leaning his body only partially in her direction. Making eye contact with her could sometimes prove fatal, as she was very good at manipulating people to her whim.

 Edna was the typical senior university student with a genuine desire to do well but a blatant lack of desire to exert herself at this point. She was smart; that much he knew, but she had that occasional quirk intelligent people sometimes had where they simply couldn't be bothered.

 "Not now, Edna."

 He knew it wouldn't deter her, even as his eyes remained astutely trained to the front of the class, and as predicted, she continued to speak.

 "Give me the homework from last night."

 His brows cinched, nose scrunching as he cocked his head slightly to respond.

 "No." After a brief pause and a thoughtful expression, he couldn't resist turning to face her fully now. "Wait- there was no homework last night." He knew the moment he'd made eye contact that she had played him; her expression as even as ever though the amusement was unmistakable.

 "You're more depressed than usual, Meebo."

 He deadpanned and took the insult as a means to turn away from her with good reason, sniffing haughtily as he refused to be baited.

 "Says the ball of sunshine. I'm fine, thanks." He was content to leave it at that, situating himself properly and tipping his chin up with purpose as he saw Professor Zenrai make his steady way to the front of the class then; always early enough to situate leisurely and go over his notes but not too early to allow himself to relax - another thing Mikleo respected about the man.

 "Mmm...love troubles, huh?"

 Mikleo stiffened, a mixture of irritation and bewilderment at Edna's persistence as well as her accuracy, but he was easily goaded by her and he really didn't have the patience to put up with it currently. Through grit teeth and with a determination to keep entirely still with violet eyes trained forward, he repeated, "I'm fine, Edna."

 "Ohh, you got dumped, didn't you."

 He whirled around, immediately losing his internal conflict, going red with a fluster and met with Edna's smug and knowing look; the ponytail anchored at the side of her head swaying as she cocked her head to complete her victorious look. He deflated quickly, pink with embarrassment before letting out a sigh of fatigue and slumped back forward, knowing well at this point there was no use veiling his emotions.

 "I didn't. You can't get dumped if you're not dating in the first place." He was opening his journal, bringing it to a fresh page for note taking and idly flicking his pen around his thumb. After a night to sleep on it, the heartache had dulled to something a bit whimsical. It seemed a rather fast recovery, but honestly, he'd known for some time it was unrequited.

 And then there was Sorey...

 His pen flew off his finger and clattered to the ground, Mikleo furrowing his brows before bending to retrieve it.

 "True. Plus, wasn't she interested in the new guy?" Mikleo was rather perturbed with Edna's ability to gather information. He didn't put it past Rose to snoop by nature alone and he supposed Edna was similarly cunning, but ultimately, she minded her own business and didn't pry into the affairs of others. He would admit, however, she was terribly perceptive in and of itself.

 He gave her a somewhat disbelieving look at first, starting a 'how do you even know these-' before he stopped himself and shook his head. He didn't want to know how; he had been embarrassed enough lately and the last thing needed was some revealing truth that he was as transparent as an open book. He basically already was, but he'd rather fool himself for now.

 "...She was, yeah. Sorey turned her down, though." Zenrai was about to begin and Mikleo was eager for the distraction.

 "...Sorey...? I know that name."

 "Mm. He goes to the rock climbing gym." He pulled the memory from the excited hush of conversation the group of girls had yesterday. Too bad for them, though...Sorey was apparently uninterested to an unmovable degree.

 "Does he? I feel like I know it from somewhere else..." It wasn't like Edna to deliberate and in a moment of curiosity, Mikleo turned to face her and inquire before Zenrai's voice, deep and reverberating, called his attention forward. Whatever god took pleasure in his humiliation was having a festival in his honor and the only silver lining was Mikleo was too mortified to do anything else but pay strict attention for the remainder of the class.

 The meager mystery of Edna's acquaintance to Sorey was left, for the time being, unanswered.

 --

 The fiesta in regards to Mikleo’s lack of dignity and emotional well being carried on longer than he thought karma possible of, but as it was, he stood corrected.

It seemed every interaction he had from then on out had something to do with the grinning flower boy. It was a wonder he hadn't somehow met him before. Perhaps then it would have been under better circumstances, or rather, Mikleo wouldn't have had his judgement so clouded by petty jealousy.

 It wasn't worth it. He wouldn't call his interest in Alisha more than a crush really, but now he had seemingly burned a bridge before he could even build it. Lailah gushed fondly, going on about what a polite and bright boy Sorey was and it was a shame he couldn't work for the bakery. Alisha obviously had a strong affinity for him and he could even see Rose hanging around outside the greenhouse more often, a silent game of charades happening through the bakery window as he watched her prod and tease and laugh with the apron-donning worker.

 Maybe it should have irritated him to have others tell him about Sorey, about how it seemed they would get along, how he got along with _everyone_.

 When he finally came through the doors again one morning to get his coffee fix while Mikleo was behind the counter, he could already feel a lump in his throat. Rose's eyes were no doubt fixed on him from somewhere, but he was unconcerned with that. It was simply being in the presence of Sorey that brought his guilt back in a tidal wave, crushing him beneath the surf as he was forced to face it head on from behind his meticulously polished counter.

 "Good morning." He wanted to be the first to say it, at the very least. He had a lot of animosity to erase that he himself had wedged between them.

 "Good morning." The greeting was returned politely, though the manner seemed sort of foreign to the brunette. Any time Mikleo saw him interact with others, he was full of life and light, like people just pulled the words right out of him magnetically. It was impossible _not_ to notice. Now it felt withdrawn, cautious, like tip toeing around a sleeping tiger.

 Mikleo had received his wish. Sorey was no longer trying to converse with him. He'd gotten the message: ' _Leave me alone_.'

 With a small clearing of his throat, he tried to act as he would with anyone else, perhaps even color his speech with a slightly warmer tone.

 "What can I get for you?"

 "Oh, um...Just the special for the day is fine." Eye contact was sparse, though that seemed to be coming from both ends. It was still hard to look him in the eye.

 "Okay. Just a minute." God, he was practically sweating. From the corner of his eye, he could see the old wallet being drawn out and couldn’t fathom a proper time to dissuade it; and not because he’d intentionally _ruined_ his drink.

 He half expected his hands to spasm, for the hot cup of coffee to slip from his fingers mid prep and scald him; splattering coffee all about him to add insult to injury. But he did not. He prepared it to perfection, even a flare of latte foam art to finish it up was achieved.

With care, Mikleo was capping it and handing it to the brunette, hesitant before raising his eyes to him. They made eye contact for a brief moment in time before the barista was clearing his throat a second time and gesturing to the drink with a nod of his head.

“You can take a sip, make sure it’s to your liking.” He attempted at mild humor, but the sick curl to his stomach didn’t allot for much amusement. Sorey was kind enough to smile regardless, but apparently he was kind all the time; Mikleo was the only aggregate here. Tentatively, Sorey brought the steaming drink to his lips, testing it before something pleasant summoned a glow of pink to Sorey’s cheeks and radiance to his green eyes.

“It’s delicious~”

Mikleo could feel his pulse in his wrists and hear it in his ears; he was surprised the walls were not resounding with it. It was a nauseating mixture of gratification and resentment. He didn’t feel he deserved any benefit that came from their interaction but with the wall of acrimony having effectively been decimated, the charm that Sorey seemed to radiate was, as everyone had said, infectious.

“Good.” Mikleo amended, though he supposed despite his reservation, it came across genuine. Sorey appeared mollified. He was reaching for the money he’d pulled from his wallet and when he extended it to Mikleo, the silver-haired baker simply shook his head dismissively.

“It’s on us today.” He didn’t trust himself to say much else.

Sorey looked a bit puzzled at first, even a bit troubled but after a moment, it melted away to gratitude Mikleo wished wasn’t directed toward him; he didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t his idea.

“That’s really kind of you, thank you.” The flower boy was taking a portion of the money even so to place into the tip jar. It was like a blinding clarity, the kind of disposition this boy had and how disproportionately erroneous Mikleo had been about him. He couldn’t manage any gesture of thanks toward the tip but Sorey didn’t seem to pay it any attention.

He pocketed his wallet and offered a final smile with a small bob to his fluffy chestnut head.

“Have a good day~”

It took heroic effort for Mikleo to reciprocate, feeling like his tongue had swollen and it wasn’t until Sorey was opening the door that the barista managed to croak a ‘you too’ in response. Sorey waved, the door jingling  as he exited and Mikleo sagged against the counter, pressing his forehead against the cool of the granite. He had six more days of free coffee to offer him.

This week was likely to be one of the longest of his life.

-

Rose didn't come around, but he did see a flash of her bright hair from across the street, her cart filled to the brim with daffodils. She'd find a way to gather info from Sorey, and probably without much prying. It didn't matter. He was keeping his end of the deal, even if it was like swallowing a bag of nails.

 The next morning was much of the same. A polite greeting, albeit it was a bit more rushed due to a swell of morning customers. Sorey likely would have denied yet _another_ free coffee, but he was all but swept away in the fast moving line, Uno having even stepped in to assist in packaging and toasting pastries. They had exchanged smiles again, but it was arguably even more tense than the day previous. Free coffee wasn't going to mend the rift Mikleo had created, but he had no choice to keep going until the week was up or Sorey refused the gifts.

 The latter happened sooner than expected, coming only two days later during another early morning shift. It was just after open as Mikleo had been drawn away from cake decorating to man the drink station once more, seeing that fluffy head of chestnut entering with a burst of sweet summer air.

 "Good morning, Mikleo~" It was the first time in a little while Sorey had used his first name and he felt himself tense upon hearing it, anticipating what excuse he'd use this time to offer coffee free of charge. They made eye contact and Mikleo could already see Sorey was wary of his body language, his tongue sliding across his lower lip as he shifted back on his heels. Mikleo almost tripped.

 Could he make these interactions any more awkward?

 "Hi, Sorey. What can I get for you?" He returned the gesture of at least using his name, realizing then it was the first time he had actually called him by it. He'd used it with the others, but had never done the boy the service of using it directly with its owner.

 "Just a plain coffee with cream and sugar today, thank you." Odd. He always went for the more elaborate, usually. Still, Mikleo set out to prepare it with a nod, efficient as usual and extra careful to make sure it was right. He even checked in to make sure it was the right ratio of sweetener before delivering the steaming drink into the hands of his patiently waiting customer.

 "You're all set. Free of charge today." It was almost a mumble, his eyes cast elsewhere as he said it. His stomach was twisted up as his nerves buzzed with anxiety. This time, the young man did not budge, brows cinched, green eyes pinning him down.

 "I appreciate it, but I'd really like to pay for it."

 Shit. This was what he had been afraid of. Of course, any decent person would question why they were receiving free services, even if it was just out of skepticism.

 "Don't worry about it. It's really fine. Just enjoy." His tone didn't sound like he wanted it to. It didn't sound like it was just a generous offer. He was making it sound like a chore he'd been tasked with. Even if it was, it wasn't his intention to sound this way.

 "...I'm sorry, I can't accept this. If it's because of the accident the other day, it's really fine. I wasn't upset at all - those things happen."

 It didn’t matter how insistently Mikleo tried to compose himself, he could feel the glow of his cheeks, the heat of it spreading to the pearl crest of his ears. His head was bowing slightly, the silk of his bangs like a curtain over his lashes as he abashedly could not maintain eye contact.

“It – really doesn’t have to do – ”

“Please take the money.”

There were circumstances where the situation would yield humor; the bizarre arrangement of promises and bargains that resulted in this tumult of exchanges. But amusement was far removed and Mikleo was at a loss. Realistically, accepting Sorey’s payment was the easiest solution and seemed to be the obvious route. But Mikleo had embedded himself deep into an obligation of principle and silly as it seemed, it felt fundamentally wrong to accept Sorey’s payment, while similarly disrespectful to continuously refuse.

He had dug himself into a hole and the one boy who seemed to enjoy the company of everyone was clearly not enjoying his. Mikleo didn’t blame him, honestly.

His head was whirring, trying to compute what to do, how to proceed, his discomfort palpable while Sorey was gazing at him steadfast with money extended toward him - virtually zero room for argument. It remained unspoken, but there was far more being communicated between them than the simple matter of free coffee.

He felt exhausted as he reached for the bills, as though he was fated to lose in either situation until another hand was appearing ostensibly from thin air, slapping down a wad of cash and startling Mikleo (and apparently Sorey) to the degree that both boys jumped; Sorey fumbling with his coffee and managing to keep it from spilling.

“I’ll be paying, thank you.” Rose was leveling him with her blue gaze and Mikleo was trying to recall if he’d heard the bell on the doors or not. It took a moment for both boys to collect themselves, the two of them comically mimicking a bristling cat with eyes wide and hair askew. Sorey was the first to respond, stepping forward with a troubled but soft expression.

“Rose, it’s really okay, I can-”

“You’re refusing a gift? From _me?”_ She tossed Sorey a challenging look and in that brief span of time, Mikleo could see just how charismatic and genuine Sorey truly was, and just what kind of broad threshold he had so royally managed to bar himself of. It had not been a full week and yet the redhead was clearly insinuating that Sorey knew enough about her to know that she was not one to offer freebies. Rose was amicable, but she was not necessarily friendly.

Mikleo had managed a feat of distance that would have been impressive if it weren’t so pathetically sad.

Sorey, oddly enough, did not deflate, but sported a pout; his lower lip pursing and brows furrowing as he sniffed and seemed determined to prevail. “I’ve gotten free drinks twice now, I don’t feel right -”

Rose rolled her eyes, brushing off Sorey’s valiance and even physically shifted him out of the way with a bump of her hip against his.

“Sorey, nothing is honestly free. Just take your coffee and go preen some flowers before I make you _really_ uncomfortable and buy you _lunch,_ too.” It was a bizarre threat but seemingly effective as the chemistry between them was mildly challenging but tangibly sincere. Sorey sighed, but his expression softened.

“Thank you, Rose.” He looked gentle as he said it and Rose responded with a wink. Briefly, Sorey peered up at Mikleo, their eyes holding for a second before Sorey was making his exit, cradling the drink to himself after having, as he always did, provided a tip to the tip jar.

Rose patiently waited until they were in the privacy of their own company before she rolled her look back toward Mikleo on a swivel, her brows lifted to convey incredulity. Mikleo felt like he was going to implode, the thread of tension keeping him upright and effectively silent frayed to nearly snapping.

“I didn’t know what to do! He – he insisted on paying, and I _know_ he knew it wasn’t because I’m just a nice person!”

Rose looked like she wanted to smack her palm against her forehead. She held up her index finger, close enough to the end of Mikleo’s nose that he leaned back off reflex.

“One; you _suck_ at lying.” He opened his mouth to defend but she spoke over him, flinging up a second finger. “ _Two,”_ she lowered them to jab at his chest in emphasis. “I’m not _mad_ at you, I’m just astonished that someone as intelligent as you could be so damn _dense._ ”

Mikleo blinked, wondering if he should be insulted or not.

“Yeah, I wanted to give my free coffee week to Sorey, but if you and your self-loathing are going to make matters _worse,_ then shit, let him pay for his coffee!” She threw her arm up, evidently exasperated  while Mikleo tried to connect the dots and feeling, as Rose had put it, terribly dense for being incapable of doing so.

“But..-”

“ _Mikleo._ You were in preschool once-”

“I wasn’t, I skipped to second grade-”

“ _My point…_ is that you’ve been through this charade before. Just go apologize.”

Mikleo looked physically ill.

“…He doesn’t like me, Rose. And I don’t think apologizing would…work.” There wasn’t a better word to properly summarize the ambiguity that accompanied harboring an unjustifiable resentment toward someone, then trying to make amends as though there had been some misunderstanding. His disposition was the problem and there wasn’t a good ‘apology’ for that.

“Sorey doesn’t dislike you, Mikleo, you’re just exceptionally talented at projecting your insecurities unto other people.” She was twisting him into an emotional pretzel and he was trying to make heads or tails of how he felt; his face screwing up and becoming warm with embarrassment. She whipped her arm out then, gesturing to the greenhouse across the street with pizazz.

“Go make friends. You’re smart, you can figure it out.”

With that, she snatched the money up she had placed on the counter and pointedly stuffed it back into her pocket with a snort.

Despite Rose’s insistence, it would be impossible to do immediately. He couldn’t very well abandon his post to go patch things up with the florist across the street. The best he could do for now was distract with decorating the cake he’d started, trying to sort out his thoughts as he crafted the petals and plumes from buttercream.

Frankly, he didn’t even think it was something he could do tonight, despite it actually being convenient timing. He was beginning to understand the boy’s schedule, as much as he’d convinced himself he wanted little to no interaction with him. Mikleo would be off work before Sorey and would have the safety net of going to deliver his apology and then make a quick escape while Sorey was tethered to the rest of his shift. Cowardly, yes. But he needed some sort of buffer or he simply wouldn’t go.

 As much as his skin crawled at the idea, it had to be that night. That didn’t stop his stomach from devouring itself for the rest of his shift, however. He rehearsed over and over what he would say, but even then, as he swiped the plastic card to punch out for the evening, flour and frosting smeared on the front of his apron, he had nothing to say. Not that his head was empty, it was actually quite the opposite. It buzzed with broken phrases and different hypothetical scenarios.

 There were ones where Sorey would just plain shoot him down, throw the apology back in his face…though he was almost entirely certain such would never happen. There were other scenes were Sorey would actually apologize to him and make it feel that much worse. He’d insist he did something wrong while Mikleo tried desperately to at least alleviate some of the guilt by admitting the fault was all his.

 It was that which kept him frozen at the edge of the sidewalk, eyes fixed on the door and palms sweating. How fast could his heart beat before it exploded in his chest and then he’d have a medical reason not to approach.

 ‘ _Sorry, Rose. I couldn’t apologize to Sorey because I died._ ’

“Mikleo? Is everything alright?” The deep, rumbling voice that came from beside him was familiar enough that he didn’t leap from his skin, though he was drawn from his thoughts rather abruptly, bright eyes wide.

 The hulking frame of one of the greenhouse owners was in his peripherals, his own thick, dark brows raised in a slight arch.

 “Oh, yeah – thank you, Boris.”

 A twitch at the corner of his mouth and a slight crinkle at the edge of his eyes told Mikleo he was amused.

 “Sergei. I know, the hair cut makes it confusing.”

 Mikleo’s cheeks flushed.

 “Sergei, sorry. That probably happens a lot…”

 The smile on his lips was small, but Sergei was not a terribly expressive man. Not to say he was on the same plane as Uno by any means, but genuine smiles were reserved for meaningful occasions. Boris was even more tight lipped, being more on the financial end of things, but that was only during working hours. Sergei only had one mode, and it was a sort of straight laced strictness that was honeyed by naivety and genuine care for others.

 “It’s quite alright. Did you need something? You’re not stranded, right?”

 Mikleo straightened, brows lifting before he was waving his hands dismissively, eager to be as little a burden as possible on the man. Mikleo lived somewhat far, considering the relative size of the town, and more times than he was fond to recount, he’d found himself abashedly asking for a lift; only _after_ having been reprimanded for attempting to make his way back independently during a severe storm.

 It was less humiliating to ask for a ride than to endure disappointment from both Lailah _and_ Sergei, who wasn’t even his boss to begin with.

 “Oh, no! I’m fine.” Mikleo dismissed, Sergei nodding in response. He offered a smile before turning to tend to the sprouts racked on a wooden shelf.

 Sergei (and Boris) were men of stature, if one had to sum it up simply. They were physically robust, dwarfing Mikleo in comparison, which made for an incredibly humorous juxtaposition; two beefy men manning a vivacious flower shop while additionally caring for their late grandmother’s ancient chihuahua.

 Mikleo peered about a moment before spotting the pathetic little thing, still perched inside his wicker basket by the front and quivering so impressively, Mikleo was certain someone could fashion a miraca out of him.

 “I was wondering, is Sorey working still?”

 Sergei peered up from the tiny plants to gesture behind him.

 “He should be in the back.” He didn’t inquire further and Mikleo wanted to thank him for it. He was constantly surrounded by curious people, though he supposed he was really no better. He thanked Sergei, hiking the bag on his shoulder higher before making his familiar way to the back.

 The canopy of green with smatterings of hushed color was well known to him now. When he had first walked the stretch of flora, it had been humbling in that way that evoked amazement at the simplicities of life. It was not so dissimilar now, but he was older and more preoccupied with the oppressive matters of, ironically, life. Biological life and societal life were so prodigiously different, yet shared a common denominator, it left Mikleo a little sick at heart for the days he used to help plant in the garden or cook in the kitchen simply to enjoy it.

 Briefly, he wondered why he couldn’t simply do so now.

 He crossed the threshold into the back, a wall of humidity encasing him as the room was an expanse of pure glass. It had not the homy fixtures and pleasant architecture that made for a cooler environment, it was designed to cultivate plants that were not equipped to survive in a shop alone. It had rows and columns, junctures and small vestibules for larger species. It was more colorful than the shop front, and looked far more wild in ways. It smelled of fertilizer and that strange scent that accompanied hotter habitats; it also smelled of earth, and the sweet, fresh scent that certain flowers had.

 Mikleo tugged at his collar a bit, looking around though saw neither hide or hair of the boy at first. He searched a little more, peering even under draining tables and behind mammoth sized leaves of elephant ear plants, but Sorey was not there; of course.

 He pulled his lower lip into his mouth, suckling it thoughtfully as his brows furrowed. He certainly would love an excuse to leave, but knowing himself, and knowing Rose, it was better to act sooner rather than later. He looked curiously about again before he decided to bide his time. It didn’t take long for him to catch sight of a particular cluster of blossoms he was not familiar with and meandered over.

 He gazed at them, studying the burst of color that bled into the petals from the pale center and wondered what kind of tropics they had originated from. They looked new. He leaned in, taking a small whiff but found they did not smell of anything.

 “Mikleo?”

 He was whipping back, away from the plants as though he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Sorey was standing perhaps ten feet away, carrying one bag of mulch over one shoulder while the other cradled a second under his arm. His face was flush, a sheen of sweat beaded on his brow and tucked behind his ear was one of the blossoms Mikleo had just been admiring. He gaped a second, looking between the two blossoms a bit staggered by the bizarre coincidence before he cleared his throat and redirected his gaze to Sorey’s inquisitive green stare.

 “Sorey-- I -” he paused and blinked a couple times. “You...aren’t you hot…?”

 Indeed, Sorey was donning the uniform designated for late autumn and winter. It was late spring now and, given he’d just come from outside, it was not the weather for long sleeves.

 “Uhh…” His mouth opened and brows lifted in a way that made him look surprised Mikleo asked such a thing, though it quickly morphed into something a bit sheepish.

 “Yeah, a little, I guess.” It was more than a little as far as he could tell. “The, um…Summer uniforms haven’t come in yet.”

 Mikleo could feel his own nose wrinkling, cringing in an attempt to sympathize with the likely uncomfortable situation. He was rewarded with a small curl of Sorey’s lips just before the bags slid to the floor with a surprisingly heavy thump. It was equal parts relieving and guilt-evoking to see Sorey smile, knowing from the beginning he had been so willing to be nice. It brought him back to his goal as he cleared his throat, eyes on the floor.

 “Sorry, I hope those uniforms come in soon.”

 “Yeah, same.”

 “Mm…”

This was much harder than anticipated, coaxing a flush from his cheeks. Eye contact should at least be _attempted_ , he thought. But as soon as his eyes went up, again they were drawn to the bright splash of color above Sorey’s ear; a flower.

 The green eyed florist seemed to notice Mikleo’s attention to it, and fingers lifted to sweep it away from his own hair, finally breaking gaze as he did so. _No, no_ – he could feel a level of embarrassment he’d evoked. A guy wearing a flower in his hair was surely uncommon, but it had felt, in ways, a charming sight for a clearly easy going person.

“Sor-“

“Hey, so I-“

 They had begun simultaneously, then quickly backtracked to excuse themselves and insist the other go first. The unease was palpable, thick like oil around them and apprehensive in more ways than one. Mikleo wasn’t sure if he should have been relieved, but Sorey was finally the one to step up to the opportunity of clearing the air.

 “Mikleo…I’m not sure if I said or did something that really rubbed you the wrong way, but I’ve gotten the sense…well I have a good feeling that you’re not exactly a big fan of me.”

 Ugh – it was unexpectedly more of a jab to hear it from Sorey’s own mouth, even when spoken as non-aggressively as one could manage. He was simply being straightforward; a thing many lacked these days.

 “Yeah, I haven’t…really been very nice, have I?” His voice felt small, but it was the only thing he could manage when trying hard not to admit he’d been plainly hateful to Sorey with no real provocation. Even still, Sorey seemed to wave it off slightly. He held the small flower he’d brushed away in the other hand, gentle in touch.

 “Er- I wouldn’t say you’ve been mean. Just…well, obviously not comfortable with me, based on all of the stuff I heard about what you’re usually like.” If it had come from Alisha, surely it was praise. She was a sweet girl. It was undeserved by him.

 “I’m sorry…” It was lame, but it was all he could think of at the moment, cheeks red and amethyst eyes looking up from beneath his lashes.

 Sorey’s head shook gently, fingers smoothing over the petals, pinching the ends.

 “I just want to know if I’ve done anything to annoy you. I understand I can be a little overbearing sometimes. If I know what it is, I can be sure not to do it again around you since we’re at least going to occasionally be working together.”

 Mortification was easily overtaking Mikleo’s face, though it wasn’t exactly difficult to detect fluster against alabaster skin like his. He willed it away as best he could, shaking his head and cleared his throat a bit louder than he intended.

 “Sorey, you…” He huffed, pulling his lower lip through his teeth before he forced his gaze up; violet eyes canopied by thick lashes.

 “You didn’t...do anything wrong.” It took a second, but Mikleo was lifting his chin, endeavoring to meet Sorey’s gaze on a level playing field. He deserved that, at the very least. The boy was adorning a face of mild skepticism, blinking before he opened his mouth to speak. Mikleo interrupted, wanting not to hear an explanation of amends that was certainly not necessary.

 “I’m sorry. I was a complete jerk.”

 It was simple. Carrying it to the surface had been gruesome to say the least, but saying it felt like letting go of something deeply weighted. It occurred to Mikleo then, momentary as it was, that he was also letting go of Alisha. When that had come coupled to burying the hatchet with Sorey, he wasn’t sure.

 “You weren’t really-”

 "I was.” He couldn’t stand hearing Sorey defend him. Plus, he was feeling incredibly good incredibly suddenly. He was sure it was adrenaline and he hoped, once he finished, he wouldn’t feel like crying.

 “I can try to explain myself and make all the odds and ends meet but… at the end of the day, I was a jerk. You didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry.”

Sorey didn’t seem like he knew what to do with himself, his hands gingerly cradling the blossom that had decorated his hair and, possibly due to the raging swell of emotion, Mikleo was trying his best not to laugh. He wondered how he could have possibly demonized a boy who wore flowers in his hair.

In commemoration for the crazed moment, even if it was an experience unrequited, Mikleo stuck out his hand, straightened his back and met Sorey’s eyes as confidently as he could manage which was, arguably, well achieved all things considered.

 “My name is Mikleo. It’s nice to meet you.”

 Stupefied, Sorey’s gaze swung like a pendulum between the amethyst of Mikleo’s eyes and his outstretched palm before he was, hesitantly, taking up his hand and squeezing it tentatively.

 “...Sorey…” He offered, hoping it was the right avenue of conversation Mikleo was fishing for and unable to keep the corners of his mouth from pulling up in mild incredulity. Mikleo nodded, his bravado fleeing all at once as he only just then seemed to recognize the absurdity and swallowed thickly.

 “Right. Sorey. Nice to meet you.” He recalled as soon as he’d said it that he’d repeated himself and felt intimately more foolish, but Sorey chuckled, seemingly endeared by the situation as he grinned and mimicked Mikleo’s nod of approval.

 “It’s nice to meet you too.” He dropped the silver haired baker’s hand, Mikleo noting that Sorey’s hands were larger than he’d thought and his handshake and been firm.

 Despite any humiliation that had followed immediately after, it was worth it. Mikleo was sure of it as he could see that genuine smile beginning to creep back onto the boy’s lips, his body language softening at the edges to convey that relaxed, easy going demeanor Mikleo had seen all too often with everyone else.

 Perhaps it was guarded still, but he seemed to be a boy easily won over by small gestures of good nature.

 Where Mikleo felt relief, he was also feeling exhausted, as if it had been physically wracking at him for days. Perhaps it really had. This level of guilt was unusual as his behavior to bring it about had also been unusual.

 It had just been an unhappy coincidence that Sorey also happened to have a different... _interests_ than himself, and certainly didn’t help Mikleo feel any better about it.

 It couldn’t have been easy for Sorey with society the way it was. Even Mikleo, someone who comfortably identified himself as heterosexual, had his own fair amount of struggle with labels simply for being a more slender, arguably effeminate male.

 Maybe that had been part of why he was feeling so threatened by Sorey; someone taller and more built. Of course he would gain the affection of the woman Mikleo had begun to feel some sort of romantic interest in. However, that was casting not only Alisha in a shallow light, but also himself. Perhaps he did lack more depth than he believed, but he would work hard to remedy that, starting immediately.

 With a deep inhale through his nose, he decided then to lie it all out flat. Feeling compelled by either the momentum of the moment or Sorey’s own honesty, he wanted to clear the air. If he was allowed to make snap judgments of Sorey, he’d allow the boy the same luxury by stripping himself bare.

 “To be honest with you Sorey, I was hostile because…well, I had this stupid idea in my head you were trying to come on to Alisha…for…less than honorable reasons.”

 He saw the way brown brows shot up high above Sorey’s green eyes and for a moment, amusement and unease settled in the same wave over him. He knew for a fact it wasn’t true after Rose had clued him in…but was it something Sorey wanted him knowing? Did it make him a bad person for coming around only because Sorey wasn’t ‘a threat’ any more?

 Again, he watched him open his mouth and Mikleo stopped him with words.

 “I know it was dumb of me. It’s not my business who either of you decide to be with and certainly not my business to try to police anything. But even still, I have to admit that I was….well, plainly put, I was a jealous little shit.” Heat settled in his cheeks as he finished up, still having pride enough to feel embarrassed at outwardly admitting his flaws, especially to a very fresh acquaintance. What would Sorey make of this new outlook on him?

 He somehow knew forgiveness was still on the horizon, whether he deserved it or not. He hadn’t, however, anticipated the kind he got.

 Sorey’s shoulders sagged, his arm lifting to ruffle the hair at the back of his head, but his lips had cracked finally in a toothy, happy grin.

 "You know, I’m actually kind of glad to hear that. Sorry if that’s weird-“

 It was Mikleo’s turn to raise his brows up high, though the look in his eyes flickered with confusion. What positive could there be in being a shallow lout? But it looked like Sorey was prepared to explain his unusual reaction.

 “I mean…I’m glad you changed your mind about me, but it’s kinda nice to hear you’re human, you know?”

 Should that offend him? Was human a good thing to be? Prone to jealousy and judgments?

 Warm eyes were back on him and swallowing became difficult for just a moment.

 “I’d heard all this great stuff about you, Mikleo. And on top of being a really handsome guy…well, I was actually kinda intimidated. It’s just sorta…I dunno…nice to know you’re a really normal, approachable person.”

 Normal was never a word he’d heard used to describe himself. Sorey coughed, scuffing his feet against the floor while his fingers plucked a velvety petal from the flower, fiddling still.

 “Well that, and I know now you don’t just hate me. That’s always good, too.”

 Were Mikleo to dwell on the fact that he had so royally misjudged Sorey’s character, he wouldn’t get anywhere. He would carry it with him, a mistake he was determined to never repeat again, but he would move forward and not look back.

“I can’t say I expected to get complimented after admitting to making an ass of myself…then again, I can’t say I expected to get tipped after I made you a terrible drink.”

Sorey laughed, a radiant sound that Mikleo wasn’t sure he quite earned yet, but he reveled in it anyway. Rose was right; this guy was a saint. He was certain she meant in reference to his disposition, but Mikleo would not put it past possibility that he was, in fact, holy.

“Accidents happen! And either way, it made for a good story~”

Perhaps he would tell Sorey about the deliberate act _after_ they had become closer. If he were to be honest, he was quite sure Sorey would forgive him even so, but he would rather not gamble on Sorey’s good nature; knowing well not to take advantage when he was already positioned poorly to begin with.

It occurred to him late that Sorey had also tacked on ‘handsome’ to describe him which surprised him in a number of ways. He wasn’t sure of Sorey’s stance when it came to how well known his preferences were. With the veil of hostility entirely lifted, Mikleo was knowledgeable enough to know people did not always favor publicity with their sexuality and in more tragic cases, remained bound to secrecy for their protection.

That was one surprise, where the other was perhaps a bit simpler. He was rarely described as _handsome_ when it came to his appearance. _Pretty_ was more often what he came across.

Pretty eyes.

Pretty mouth.

_Pretty boy._

He sucked in a breath, willing away old sores and musings before he regarded Sorey with an expression softer than what he felt within at the moment.

“I should let you get back to work.”

With a bob of his head, Sorey agreed once again, mindful that he was, indeed, still on the clock, even if his employer likely wouldn’t have minded a few more moments of chit chat between the two of them.

“Well, thank you, Mikleo.” His words were clear and honest and true, as everything else that came from him since they had met. “I really appreciate you coming to say this to me. It’s never easy to have hard conversations with someone, but I really look forward to working with you.” There seemed to be something unspoken on his lips, a desire to say more, but whether that was the case or not, he didn’t add it in. It left Mikleo a bit curious, but he’d pushed his luck as far as he wished for one day.

“Maybe we can talk a little more some time, even if it’s just about those plants you seemed to like.” Sorey’s head cocked toward the flowers on the table, bright and lovely, before bending to hoist up the large bags with what looked like very minimal difficulty.

“Yeah. Hopefully you’ll have your summer uniform by then.” Mikleo tried for a bit of humor, offering a friendly smile. He was rewarded by an amused grin in return, green eyes squinting in mirth.

“I’m going to need it soon with the weather forecast coming up!”

That tickled him, somehow. To be talking about easy things like the weather when ten minutes ago, he’d been anticipating running from here with his tail between his legs. How Sorey’s aura, his endless charm, had not won him over the moment they met was still a mystery. But maybe now that he was thinking clearly, they could at least be friendly work partners for the rest of the summer season.

They waved a small goodbye and Sorey disappeared back into the lush of the greenhouse while Mikleo exited onto the sidewalk feeling ten tons lighter.

It was certainly a start.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience everyone! We hope you enjoyed this chapter and please leave any comments you have regarding our story!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _That tickled him, somehow. To be talking about easy things like the weather when ten minutes ago, he’d been anticipating running from here with his tail between his legs. How Sorey’s aura, his endless charm, had not won him over the moment they met was still a mystery. But maybe now that he was thinking clearly, they could at least be friendly work partners for the rest of the summer season._
> 
> _They waved a small goodbye and Sorey disappeared back into the lush of the greenhouse while Mikleo exited onto the sidewalk feeling ten tons lighter._
> 
> _It was certainly a start_

“Your face looks weird.”

Edna had never been one to pull punches. In ways, Mikleo respected her for such brutal honesty. In several other ways, it left him bristled and annoyed when she would deliver her opinion though seldom asked of it.

Currently, however, there was little that could be said to dampen his spirits.

"I'm in a good mood, Edna, thank you for noticing." He said it without looking up from his journal, flicking his wrist to finish his scribe before swinging his gaze back over to his text book. The library was a place of both solace and reverie for Mikleo; filled to the brim with content he would eagerly devour had he the time and the luxury of self indulgence, but even though he did not, he was lucky to be some of the few that actually enjoyed studying. Well, granted, it involved a subject he enjoyed as well; that didn't hurt.

"That was fast. Rebound?"

Mikleo decided not to respond right away, seeing as he was actually trying to be productive and Edna, presumably in a perpetual state of boredom with her only relief being the torment of her junior, was doing her damndest to keep him from getting anywhere. Had she honestly posed a threat to his grades, he would have shooed her off long ago.

"I'm not that fickle. I don't have the energy for that." He joked, the corners of his mouth pulling upward at his own joke while Edna only grimaced. Had he not known her better, he would honestly assume she was disgusted with him. They had shared a few classes together over the years, and during a rather rigorous session that required them to observe and explore the rocky cliffs of their surrounding wilderness, it was then Mikleo found Edna had an affinity for the mountain ranges that most others in their class feigned. Their bond was a bit odd, forged for a particular affection of the outdoors in ways that didn't seem to mesh with their characteristics or their appearances. Their intelligence was another notch of common ground, though Mikleo begrudgingly would admit that she was sharper than he was in certain places.

It had been roughly a week since he had made his amends, and ever the forgiving soul comprised of boundless energy and positivity, Sorey had taken Mikleo's reintroduction as a rebirth of their acquaintanceship. Rose had immediately taken notice, despite having only been around for one of their interactions, but Mikleo had skillfully evaded any prodding inquiries from her. It wouldn't last indefinitely, but it was nice to be able to settle into his new dynamic with the flower boy without anyone trying to ruffle him with questions and curiosities.

He was finishing up his note taking, closing his books and standing to begin gathering his items while Edna observed him quietly; seated atop the table while her legs dangled over the edge.

"...You have an idea of what you want to do?"

Mikleo paused, raising his eyes to her as she was not one to bring up heavier topics of conversation without prompting. His shoulders dropped a bit before continuing to gather his items neatly into a pile to slip inside his bag.

"Not yet."

"Have you been thinking about it?"

He hadn't been; not recently. He'd been too preoccupied with being shallow and presumptuous.

"I'll figure it out soon." He zipped his bag closed and pulled it with care up over his shoulder. Edna only hummed in response but did not push him more than that. He had work to get to and, god willing, he could mull things over during his shift.

-

It was all too easy to get swept away by the routine of school and work. It was fairly simple, predictable, and kept him busy enough, generally, to avoid the uncomfortable questions of where he was going with his life. Sprinkle in a few gym routines or laps at the university pool and he could say he was almost busy enough to excuse his somewhat lackluster social life.

But it couldn’t be avoided forever.

Not that he was actively trying to do so, but Edna’s surprisingly reined in prodding had rekindled those uncomfortable thoughts, bringing them to the forefront now that the mess with Sorey had been cleared up. It wasn’t as if he could ask his peers. Most students were just hoping they themselves had chosen the right option. Not to mention he generally got things like ‘just do what you like doing!’ or ‘you’re good at insert mundane task here, why not do that?’.

Advisors had put him on the path to nowhere he was on now, so it was fair to say his options were a bit limited in finding direction. And his mother…well, it felt too awkward to ask her. She had known immediately what she wanted to do and worked her fingers to the bone to get it. And now here he was, just floating through the hallways she had once conquered. Not to mention he was doing it with a hefty financial bump from her as well. The ‘rich kid’ who was just wasting mommy’s money; his nose wrinkled at his own stereotype.

How had she been so sure? There was so much out there, and at the same time, such a narrow market for anything. His talents lie scattered and most didn’t seem like a solid basis for anything financially viable. He didn’t feel he had the temperament to be a teacher like her. But had that always been what she wanted to do?

No…

His steps slowed a bit, his teeth catching the inside of his lip to chew contemplatively. Sliding slender fingers into the pocket of his slim fit jeans, he produced his plain black cellphone simply to check the time.

His mother had gotten advice when she entered school. She had lots of guidance; he could remember vaguely her telling him so. Of course, he’d never thought too hard about her situation in particular, not much beyond finding professor Zenrai to be an exceptional scholar and inspiration to her career.

Would he be alright with her son seeking the same guidance? His office hours were still open, at least for the next hour. Even if he couldn’t personally help with anything other than a career in teaching, perhaps he could lead Mikleo to resources that could aid in clarifying, not just dead end internet searches or bogus personality tests that told him he’d be good as a writer or pastry chef.

He found himself positioned outside of Zenrai’s office, body tight with tenuous anticipation. He had been a professor he had admired long before he met the man; some one who had helped carve the path for his mother and all her ambitions and someone who Mikleo had been wise to his teachings at a young age.

His mother had worked diligently under his prestigious tutelage and where Mikleo did not have a clear answer such as she appeared to have, he was just as eager for a similar knowledge and understanding of the world.

He drew in a breath and coached himself that it would not be unoriginal or troublesome to seek guidance from a similar source of inspiration. Raising a hand, he was about to tap his knuckles against the frame of the door, but a deep voice from within was responding even before he could.

“Come in.”

He was stunned for a second before, tentatively, he was turning the knob and peeking inside. Zenrai’s back was to him, observing one of his large, old bookshelves and illuminated by the light of the wall length windows that encased the corner of his office. After working there as long as he did, Mikleo would have felt offended if the man had not been provided a beautiful office space of his own. Then again, however, the university was well known for its accommodating and aesthetically pleasing architecture.

“Professor Zenrai.” Mikleo addressed politely, taking a few steps inside after closing the door behind him. He smiled as the man did not turn just yet, feeling it not to be a dismissal of his presence but rather an air of familiarity. “How did you know I was at your door?”

He pointed a thumb in the direction of the large windows.

“I saw you walk by with a pensive look. It seemed like only a professor could answer your questions.”

Honestly, if the man had said it was simply a change in the winds, Mikleo would have believed him.

“I’m not getting you at a bad time, am I?” Unknowingly, a tick of nervousness resulted in tugging at the straps of his backpack and tucking a few locks of stray hair behind his ears. For a moment, Zenrai looked like he wanted to respond with something profound, but looking at the boy, he decided on a simple shake of his head.

“No. Come, sit.”

Mikleo did as directed, making himself comfortable as best he could against the cushioned seats cradled by books and other educational paraphernalia. As though it were an ornament to signify to those who may not know he was, indeed, a professor, a quintessential globe was perched atop a shelf to his right. On it, however, were small pins and organized notes of what looked like places he had visited in the past. There were several all over and some, strangely, marked in the middle of the ocean.

He didn’t know he was staring at those spots about the vast ocean until Zenrai was drawing his attention away.

“Mikleo. You are excelling in your classes and your attendance is phenomenal. You haven’t given any indication of struggle, so with that in mind, I imagine you’ve come to me for another reason.”

Stunned for a second time, Mikleo was humbled by such praise, his cheeks warming while his eyes flicked down and his fingers curled tightly in the palms of his hands. He deliberated, not sure exactly where to start before he decided the small rock in his stomach had overstayed its welcome. He didn’t want to live in a shadow, no matter how beloved the beacon.

“…Did my mother ever come to you, not knowing what she wanted to do with her life…?”

The soft hum that rumbled inside his chest sounded like the beginnings of a chuckle.

“Your mother was not the first, and she was by no lengths the last. It’s a very turbulent age to be, Mikleo.” He walked with his slow, short steps to the desk, almost a sort of shuffle, but that gargantuan presence he had kept it from seeming as such. With a small grunt of effort, he was settling into his chair, rubbing fingers across his brow before any direct response could be coaxed out of him. “It’s no easy task for someone with such a broad range of talent. I’m assuming you have already considered and decided against a teaching path like your mother’s?”

With a small, silent nod, Mikleo gave his answer. Zenrai gave another rumbling hum.

“Mikleo…what is it you want from education?”

His amethyst eyes blinked. That was a new one. He had been asked ‘what do you want to do in the future’ or ‘what do you enjoy doing that could work as a job’, but never a question formulated quite like this. He had to admit, he was a bit dumbfounded.

“Sir…?” He questioned, brows cinched and shoulders rigid. He didn’t know how honestly he should answer the question. He was taking classes for the credits, but education itself…

The professor had not moved, watching him steadily from beneath those thick, white brows.

Eventually, he took mercy on the stricken young man and reworded in a slightly simpler question to answer. Only slightly, though.

“What’s the personal drive behind learning for you?”

His tongue darted over his lips, weight shifting in the broken in chair while his fingers laced and twisted around each other in his lap.

“Well, I wanted to get a degree to-“

He was met with a shake of Zenrai’s head and Mikleo’s mouth snapped shut. As if sensing he’d caused distress for the silver haired boy, the seasoned teacher raised a hand, motioning for his unrest to ease.

“It’s alright, Mikleo. This isn’t a test. I was just looking more for your own personal desires. I assume you weren’t born just hoping to get a degree….any degree at all. So there must be some thirst for knowledge that brought you to this school. I want to know more about that.”

That was just it. He hadn’t come with ambitions. He hadn’t come with a dream or drive. He’d come…well, he’d come because it was  _expected_ he come.

His eyes moved downward.

“To be frank, sir… I don’t have a personal drive. It just felt like it was the right thing to do…to come to college after high school so I could eventually work somewhere that makes a decent living wage….”

There were a few beats of silence and Mikleo began to feel gnawing at his gut at the answer he’d given. The professor had always been incredibly wise and surprisingly open-minded for someone his age, but perhaps his views on education were a bit more of a reflection of that age. Maybe he had answered too honestly.

“That is certainly a recurring theme I’m noticing these days. It certainly makes things hard for your generation…to be rushed into such an important decision. But I don’t believe you have no personal drive, Mikleo.”

Once more, his head lifted and bright eyes stared, wide and curious, to the man seated before him.

“With how eagerly you absorb and question my materials, I know there is a large part of you that craves deeper learning, that seeks knowledge beyond what you currently possess.” Mikleo wasn’t sure when he’d begun leaning in, but his head was nearly angled over the ends of his knees now, hands tight on the cushion below. Like he would miss priceless life advice if he weren’t listening hard enough. “I’ve seen a theme in what piques your passion.”

“What?” His voice nearly cracked in an eagerness to coax that final answer from him, forgetting his manners momentarily.

"People.”

Another pause and yet Mikleo didn’t stop leaning forward, as if awaiting some further elaboration. This time, he did not receive any.  _People_ were his passion?? That seemed…incredibly hard to believe, especially looking back at his somewhat antisocial ways; very few friends, not an overly extroverted personality. In fact, if he had to describe himself in one, painfully honest word, it would likely be aloof, at best.

“You mean…like teaching…?” He was beginning to feel a sinking in his belly, deflated by such an underwhelming answer after the tension had built up so much.

“No. Not teaching. I don’t think you’ve satisfied your own learning enough to take on a position such as that.” He said it with such a quick resolution, Mikleo wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or not, knowing his own mother had jumped straight into the field of educating herself.

Was he too immature for teaching?

“I’m…not sure I follow…”

The professor cleared his throat sharply; almost enough to startle Mikleo in his seat as his posture snapped back, but as a wrinkled hand reached out for a nearby glass of water, he realized the verbal gesture was unrelated. The mouthfuls were taken at a seemingly leisurely pace, but somehow…it eased Mikleo a little. Professor Zenrai was human, not some sort of all knowing sage or god of wisdom.

“There are many things you can do with other human beings that does not involve teaching. There are always opportunities to learn…and I don’t mean just here. But globally.” Again, Mikleo’s tongue found it’s way across his lower lip, running his teeth over the soft flesh before nodding slowly.

“You mean like studying abroad at another university.”

The deeply creased edges of his mouth turned down, fingers raising to stroke his well groomed beard.

“Perhaps that would be helpful… but I think a university isn’t quite the structure you need at the moment. Learning of cultures and peoples of the world rarely require a formal school setting.”

Mikleo felt as though the room was spinning. He was suddenly dizzy with the prospect of something much larger than he had anticipated plotted out before him. He supposed he had never endeavored for something grandiose. He hadn’t been so humble or so reserved as to expect a life maintaining a small bakery or a classroom, though he had not ventured to entertain ideas beyond his home country.

Well, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true.

From a young age, he had dreamed of seeing sights printed in history books and drafted in articles of archeological findings. That passion accompanied a fascination for alternative civilizations and cultures unlike his own. But as he grew older and he witnessed the regimented, practical life style of his mother, he made sure to stash his dreams in a quiet place within him and aim for something more reasonable.

For a brief period in his teens, he had felt a mild frustration toward his mother, as though she were to blame for all his uncertainty. But as he grew older, he came to learn it was not so simple as that.

He knew she loved him; deeply, incredibly. Her passion for education stemmed from wanting to be able to teach him herself, to protect him, arm him with knowledge. But she had been absent for much of his life growing up and he had been left to weather the storm on his own.

His love for the world beyond had become hush beneath the waves. His free time, what little he had, he would make sure to do what he could to catch up, to explore more of the unknown or the forgotten, but it had never occurred to him that it was something he could pursue as a career path.

Why it hadn’t, he wasn’t entirely certain. It may have had something to do with harassment of the past. But that was, indeed, in the past.

“Do you mean…go and live someplace?”

“I mean explore, Mikleo.”

He felt something spark to life inside of him, an excitement flare up and burst before he was, perhaps subconsciously, trying to bury it again. He didn’t trust himself to speak, for fear he would disappoint the elderly man who seemed to hold him in high regard for reasons he knew not. He didn’t seem the kind to personify greatness of one being unto another, so the lineage of his mother’s was not a burden he felt acutely with the man; not as much as he expected to. It was an incredible relief on one hand, while on the other, he was not sure what he expected of him otherwise.

He bowed his head, eyes tracing mindless patterns in the woodwork while he mulled over Zenrai’s words. He didn’t expect the conversation to continue, thus when Zenrai spoke, it nearly startled him; silver lashes fluttering and bright amethyst eyes darting upward.

“You remind me of my son.”

Mikleo took pause, a wash of emotion taking him before he settled on the first one that surfaced; clearing his throat and sitting straighter than he was before, which was already quite a bit.

“I…didn’t know you had a son…”

Mikleo was stunned by the myriad of sensations being equated to Zenrai’s child had evoked in him. He held an immense respect for the man, but he hadn’t expected to be so honored by similarity. Plus, it was a surprise in general that Zenrai had blood relatives at all, though it was no oddity that he would, really.

Zenrai nodded, a deep and steady motion before he elaborated somewhat.

“I fostered him for a time. Then when it came time for his departure I…couldn’t let him go.” He sniffed, a small interval of humor he entertained and all at once, Mikleo was incredibly charmed. His mouth pulled up into a smile, pleased he was let in on a small secret of affection his professor had for his child.

“I’m sure he’s a good man.”

Zenrai chuckled, though looked a bit exasperated, as many fathers did when dealing with the complexities of parenthood. “He certainly seems to be becoming one.” He mused before he nodded to Mikleo once again. “He has similar passions as you. I believe you two would be good friends.”

That was a phrase he was well familiar with as of recent and if he wasn’t inclined to believe it previously, there was little he could do resist believing in it when such a man was saying so.

“I would love to meet him one day.”

Considering the age of his professor and the label of father and son, the first image that formed in his mind was that of a grown man, rich with knowledge and well spoken, just like his adoptive father. It felt a little surprising that the professor had time for child rearing, presumably when he was a bit younger, especially if there was no significant other in the picture to help with parenting. But it was a personal matter and one Mikleo did not intend to pry into, curious as he was to the family of such an icon in his life. If he did share a room with Zenrai's son, likely it would feel similar to this; like being imparted invaluable wisdom from a respected guardian.

Curiously, the professor had said he was 'becoming' a fine man, but perhaps age in his eyes was quite different than Mikleo's perspective. His eyes began to search about for any pictures in particular that stood out. He wasn’t able to get a good look, but it seemed to be mostly a few of the graduating classes, individual students or people he’d met in other countries. There were only two others that seemed to be more indicative of family in that they featured the same child, but the small, brown-haired boy in the pictures clinging to an already elderly Zenrai couldn’t have been much older than six or seven…perhaps a grandchild or great nephew.

"Well, if you are ever in need of any floral arrangements, he could likely help you out. Or if you wanted to stay up all night discussing world history." The loving chuckle that rose easily from the man's chest was just as warm as the smile that accompanied it. But what caught Mikleo's attention now was not his affinity for seeing a more personal, familial side to his favorite teacher, but rather the small hints to who his son was as a person.

Floral arrangements...? Not the profession he expected of someone likely so astute and educated. But again, this family seemed to be full of surprises.

He couldn't help but ask now, his thoughts drifting to the two hulking twins in charge of the flower shop across the street. But he'd only said one son, hadn't he....?

"Does he work locally?" Mikleo couldn't help but ask, simply hoping this sort of curiosity wasn't prying a bit too much. Then again, Zenrai was likely familiar with much of Mikleo's own life from his mother.

A nod confirmed and Mikleo suddenly felt his brain trying to produce any other nearby locations that would be hiding such a person. That college town wasn't so small that it would have only one major florist. Yet...it was an uncommon occupation for an older male to have, statistically speaking.

“Mm, it shames me to admit I can’t recall the name of the place he was just hired recently, but I know it’s close by. He works part time like you do while he’s finishing up his degree.” More details were coming out without much prompting, but that was likely typical of any proud parent. The more he got, however, the more Mikleo felt an itch to nail down exactly who this person was. It was certainly starting to feel more and more like a strange coincidence as the details aligned themselves. But the boy in mind was too young to be the son of the professor, he was sure. It must have been some  _other_ local and recently hired florist with a seemingly strong passion for world history…

...right?

“Is it Strelka’s Sunroom…?” He was starting to push his luck, but the professor seemed largely unruffled by the questions. There was no sort of expression of recognition on his wrinkled face and so Mikleo was feeling the anticipation that had been growing in his stomach die somewhat.

“You know…I’m not entirely certain. I haven’t kept as close tabs on him since he started university. I suppose it’s rather terrible I not know where my own son works, but Sorey did send me an emergency number…” And just before Mikleo could be charmed again by the vision of such an old professor digging around for his comically large mobile phone, all of the text programmed for easy reading, he had his answer, dropped right into his lap without any sort of introduction or fanfare.

_ Sorey  _ .

He almost spoke the name aloud for verbal confirmation, though his teeth remained clamped down against the syllables while his cheeks tinged red.

_ Sorey? Oh yeah, the guy I nearly poisoned at the bakery because I’m a petty asshole  _ .

Even though he’d since apologized and they were on at least somewhat pleasant terms as acquaintances, he couldn’t stop the guilt from rushing back, ten fold now knowing whom it was he called father. But it made sense; his personality, his honesty, his intelligence. With a father figure like Professor Zenrai, he couldn’t imagine anyone turning as anything less than a fine specimen of a human being.

His eyes were drawn back to the pictures he’d seen hanging, featuring a small, grinning boy, arms wrapped tight around the old man. Bright green eyes…he hadn’t noticed before.

“Is that your son…?”

Zenrai was coming to peer at the photo with eyes well eclipsed by his heavy brow, but the manner of his regard indicated he could see it quite clearly.

"That's quite an old photo, but yes; that's him." He didn't turn right away and let his gaze linger a moment, Mikleo taking said moment to observe Zenrai quietly. It did not take much effort, nor much observation for that matter to see the affection he held for his son. All at once, Mikleo had many curious questions, the oddity of the coincidence tossed aside for the time being as the sensation of how perfect it was that they were related was overtaking him.

He didn't ask any of them, however; opting to biting his plush lower lip to keep himself respectfully silent. He, instead, opted to gaze at the photo as well, staring as though he could see the moment in time unfold before him. It did not, of course, and Sorey continued to smile that large, luminous smile of a child starry eyed and innocent.

If Mikleo were being honest, he didn't look so different now.

-

Departing from professor Zenrai's office had left him with more questions than answers, though admittedly they were less centered around himself and more so around Sorey.

Zenrai had been Sorey's foster parent. That meant Sorey, somewhere along the lines, was in the foster care system.

Mikleo mulled it over, trying his best to look past each flare of karma that continued to plague him beyond the initial strike. At this point, he was learning to roll well with the punches.

Sorey was without a family; at the very least, biological parents. How long had he been that way? When had they passed, if they had? He was young in the photos with the professor, though he couldn't have been younger than six or seven. It was in no manner, any of his business what Sorey had experienced, but Mikleo felt a very sudden urge to know more about him. Sorey had a direct link to one of the only men in his life he had idolized. Having grown up without a father, the way his mother had spoken of professor Zenrai and upon meeting him for the first time, it was one of the closest things he had to one. It was rather uncanny and the coincidence was making his head spin somewhat.

He coached himself diligently as he made his way to Wallfour, to keep himself poised and composed. Sorey didn't need someone to poke and prod his brain for theories and historical excerpts. The manner of his upbringing, despite Mikleo wanting to know, was not exactly what had the barista excited to talk to him. He had experienced a feeling similar to this once before; the brief talk they had about South Africa and the ruins of the church. But Mikleo had fervently convinced himself to remain removed from interest and did a relatively decent job at believing it.

It was no longer debatable now, however, the Sorey was a treasure trove of knowledge, and where Mikleo was particularly assured that the sunroom employee wouldn't boast of such things personally, Mikleo had the gospel truth of Zenrai himself.

As he stepped into the bakery and began to pull on his apron, he could feel himself smiling in poorly suppressed excitement.

He wanted to talk with Sorey.

He had a few other obligations he had to deal with before he was able to see the boy. None seemed able to hamper Mikleo’s bridled eagerness, either.

“You’re looking lively this morning, Mikleo~” It was Lailah, stopped mid hum as she glided in the doors, donning a large and familiar hat that only came out in the summertime. She was, despite her peculiar quirks and her age (he wasn’t actually entirely sure how old she truly was, but it hinted to at least her thirties), incredibly stylish. A bit elaborate at times, but her fashion was always striking even still. She could easily be mistaken for someone closer to his age which, he was sure, she actually preferred.

“Am I?” He responded as he was setting the pastries out in the case just so, adding small embellishments to the display, meticulous as ever in doing so. A little more to the right…maybe another paper flower, too.

“Your arrangements are always more colorful when you’re in a good mood!” She truly seemed tickled, almost so much that it made Mikleo blush, embarrassed that he was otherwise seen as potentially downtrodden or unenthused.

“Guess I never noticed. I’m not really in any sort of particular mood.” Good wasn’t exactly what he’d call it. Almost…nervous? But certainly not the way he’d been before. It didn’t feel negative.

She swirled around the counter, pulling down her rose gold-rimmed sunglasses.

“I saw good luck in your fortune two days ago! I was beginning to worry after I plucked so many petals a couple weeks back!!”

Ah, right; Her fortune telling hobby. He’d certainly seen a lot of tea leaves sacrificed to that art by her office.

“Yeah, I guess I was under a lot of pressure recently, but it’s fine now. It was…sorta my own fault anyway.” He admitted, more to dissuade any concerned prodding, though Lailah wasn’t terribly invasive. Not like-

“One large, triple mocha with a hazelnut swirl – chop, chop!!”

He deadpanned.

“Rose. A  _please_ would be nice.”

“Psh-” Her lips sputtered, body already leaning hard into the counter, despite Lailah being present. Honestly, Lailah rarely enforced anything unless customers were present…and only the ones who seemed like they might mind her antics. “What, do you ask all your customers to say ‘pretty please’ when they place an order? Sure are strict, aintcha?”

“No, I only ask customers who don’t seem to have the common decency to not use the phrase ‘chop, chop’ when asking to be served.” Mikleo retorted with a lift to his brow indicative of the appropriate amount of seriousness intermingled with jest. Rose played into it well, her own brows lifting before giving a whistle.

“Mikleo’s being saucy!” She chimed, to which Mikleo responded with an eye roll.

“Requesting respect is hardly saucy.” He turned to begin preparing her drink regardless of his scolding, and Rose was leaning over the counter with a grin; retracting slightly as Lailah tried to shoo her off the marble, but settling right back into place when the woman had her back turned.

“You’re in a good mood today~” Rose mused aloud, Lailah whirling right back around with eyes bright.

“I said the same thing! Rose, please, stop leaning on the counter. But yes! I also noticed that!” Lailah chirped, bright eyed and bushy tailed while Mikleo tossed a skeptical look at the both of them; noting that Rose had not lifted herself from the counter as she’d been requested to multiple times now.

“You’re acting like I’m keeping a secret or something.” Mikleo snorted, turning his eyes back to his work; pulling shots for the drink and mixing in the proper flavoring as he did so.

Lailah giggled, though didn’t press any further, simply satisfied that her employee was visibly cheerful when he had, apparently, been gloomy previously. He didn’t think he’d been that expressive about his discomfort, but then again, Lailah was quite perceptive. Rose was another sharp nose, and it didn’t help that the two women occasionally colluded. While the elder of the two turned away to attend to her pastries, Rose was scooting closer to Mikleo and indicated  with enquiring eyes what she wanted.

Mikleo wasn’t going to give it to her easily.

“What.”

She lolled her head, knowing immediately that Mikleo was holding out on her.

“Well?”

His mouth pulled up.

“‘Well’ what?”

Her gaze became narrowed before she sniffed and leaned her cheek into her palm.

“Did you make friends?”

Passing her a look, Mikleo contemplated withholding even further, knowing she was greedy for information and a glutton for gossip. He scoffed, giving in as he was pivoting to scoop ice into the cup. She hadn’t specified, but it was a hot day, and she would be out riding around. He imagined she wouldn’t prefer a warm drink.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” She couldn’t needle him with her gaze while his back was turned and he relished in the momentary suspense he’d left her in that was surely making her itch with a desire to know more. When he turned, he was surprised she hadn’t leapt the counter and wrangled it out of him. Probably because he was holding her drink, honestly.

“Would you just tell me already? I think I’m owed that much.” She reached for her drink, but Mikleo was pulling it back before she could snag it.

“What’s  _owed_ is money for this drink.”

It was with much resentment that Rose procured cash to pay, but it was obvious she was willing if it meant she’d get both her beverage and a bit of a story along with it.

“…I apologized. Sorey graciously accepted. That’s about it.”

"Of course he did, but that's all?" She pressed a little more, not entirely satisfied by the meager information, though it wasn't as if she were put out. Clearly the young man getting the apology he deserved pleased her the most.

"No boring talks about plants or school subjects or food? Did you just say sorry and then cut and run?" Her fingers thrummed, eyes watching him for any sign that he could still be holding out on her. There truly was nothing else, but she remained unconvinced, he could tell.

"I didn't run. I just didn't want to hold him up. I said sorry, he said he appreciated it, and we agreed to be friendly. Not that he hasn't been from the start." He admonished softly, tucking away the bills she'd given into the register. For someone so efficient, she was one of the few people around his age that still used strictly cash, at least that he could readily pick out. Knowing her, there was likely some business reasoning behind it. He wouldn't pry.

"Pft. The day Sorey is unkind to anyone is the day the sun falls out of the sky. I've only known the kid a couple weeks and I get that much." She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, toying a bit with a little decorative clip that held her bangs back. "But that's really all? Your mood seems real good for having just said 'sorry' and nothing else. I'd ask if you got an 'A' in one of your classes or something, but you always get those."

Her head tipped, body shifting, like she might actually see Mikleo physically hiding something behind his person. He arched a brow, sighed out heavily as the barrel of his chest sunk down, but truly...he was in a good enough mood to humor her at least a little.

"Honestly, it's nothing 'juicy' like what you're looking for. I just found out Sorey and I have a mutual connection...and it's someone important to me. I'm just happy to have some common ground to ease the tension." It seemed like she wasn't expecting straightforward honesty without any more of his stubborn quips. She stared, blinking a bit, before her lips parted and she straightened.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"And Alisha...?"

"I'm-" The warmth of his cheeks tingled, though his eyes ducked off to the side, lips tucking in momentarily. "I've decided not....to pursue that. She's really charming and intelligent, but clearly she brings out some bad behavior in me. Not to say it's anything she did- I think it was more of a passing thing, to be completely honest."

Rose was leaning back, an expression on her face Mikleo wasn’t quite able to read while he remained flushed a pretty pink. He cleared his throat, straightening his shoulders somewhat as he flicked a bit of hair from his eyes with a toss of his head.

“Anyway, she’s clearly not interested in me and I don’t feel right pursuing anything at this point regardless.”

Rose sniffed and before Mikleo could abashedly inquire, she was speaking.

“That whole ordeal was like…a catalyst to you maturing three years, I swear.” She mused, the corners of her mouth pulling up while Mikleo only became further flustered, bristling somewhat as he tossed her an accusatory look. Instead of retorting, however, he decided to embody his proclaimed growth in maturity and keep his mouth shut. He turned and busied himself with wiping down the machine instead.

Rose’s grin broadened before she took a sip of her drink and leaned back away from the counter. She, too, decided to say nothing else.

Mikleo was grateful for the silence.

It was then that Uno emerged from the freezer, shaking off a few flakes of frost with his expression a perpetual deadpan, and upon glancing at Mikleo, he was commenting evenly.

“You’re in a good mood today.”

Mikleo wanted to smack his skull against the espresso machine, doing his best to tune out Rose’s amused cackle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY I deleted this chapter on accident! ;A; I probably lost all your lovely comments. But here it is again!!
> 
> Thanks for reading everyone! Sorry for the delayed update. We hope you enjoyed the chapter! The story will be moving right along here soon. Please leave feedback on your opinions!


	6. Chapter 6

Strelka’s greenhouse was hotter than it was the days before. Even the cool store front with its mild air conditioning and nicely shadowed architecture could not contest the heat the late afternoon. It was certainly one of the hotter days for early summer, and Mikleo didn’t want to imagine what it must have been like at noon with the sun beating down from directly above.

It appeared Sergei was manning the front once more, leaving Mikleo to wonder just how many employees actually worked there. It was large enough and seemingly successful enough to warrant at least five to six employees, yet he only had ever seen Sergei, Boris and now Sorey with the occasional treat of Alisha’s presence.

“Mikleo.” Sergei acknowledged, raising his head from a clipboard with thick paperwork clipped to it. He was slipping a pen behind his ear and paying dutiful attention to his customer. Momentarily, Mikleo felt a little ashamed that he was over so often and did not purchase anything. He would have to buy something soon to at least contribute something.

“That’s a big stack of papers…” Mikleo commented after providing a smile in greeting. Sergei sniffed, knocking his knuckles against them as he responded.  
“We have a few weddings coming up. A lot of flower orders are going to be coming in, once we have some dates nailed down.”

Mikleo didn’t envy them. Weddings were an incredible source of income, but it could be a nightmare dealing with people who were meticulous about every little detail. He was peering around, trying to spot Sorey, but the boy was nowhere in sight.

“In back again.” Sergei answered with a small smile, Mikleo wanting to apologize for the trivial matter but just nodded and headed out back as Sergei had informed. This time Sorey was visible from the threshold. He was far in back, carrying a large flower pot with both arms and, even from such distance, Mikleo could tell it was quite heavy.

As he stepped inside, he was met with an incredible wave of heat, his whole body responding to it as if he’d hit a wall. He practically had. Briefly he scolded himself for not thinking to bring an iced drink for the boy. Upon approaching, he could see that Sorey had pulled his hair back with an elastic headband; his bangs flipped up and smoothed back with cheeks flushed red. Also noted was the fact that Sorey was still donning the long sleeved outfit, pathetically rolled up to mid forearm as it was too tight to go any further.

When he first met him, he could remember thinking he was somehow satisfied that Sorey had to endure the long sleeved outfit and heavy apron. Something in his mind had insisted that whatever physique Sorey had was best left to the imagination as he could somehow not shake the idea of him 'accidentally' flexing or bulking up to show off. 

Of course, knowing what he did now, it was foolish and cruel to wish such a thing like suffering through summer heat with such a physically taxing job. And likely Sorey would be modest enough to not engage in that sort of behavior, at least not to attract women, as he now knew.

Curiously, Mikleo did flick his eyes to Sorey's arms momentarily, but there truly wasn't a lot to gather from the outfit other than Sorey looked proportionate...and hot.

"Geez... I hope Sergei at least lets you have a fan or something back here. Heatstroke is no joke." 

Sorey's head turned, brows lifted as he seemed to tense in anticipation of helping a customer, though the recognition and pleasure that crossed his face upon seeing Mikleo was almost flattering. He truly was a saint, wasn't he?

"Hey, Mikleo~" he greeted with a smile, grunting softly as he placed the heavy load down on the floor presumably where he had intended it to go. "Yeah, I've got a fan." The answer came with just a slight knit between his eyebrows, suggesting that such wasn't quite enough. "I'm not sure if it's in the rules or not, but I might have already dunked my head under the watering hose earlier."

Mikleo snorted softly at the imagery, covering his smile with a fist. Reserving emotions was something he had cultivated over the years for various reasons. Honestly, it was charming to see someone else so open about their own. It was also nice to be let in on a 'secret' so early in their acquaintanceship. It almost felt like the echoes of a friendship, even.

He could tell Sorey was just as pleased with Mikleo's smile, turning to face him fully while he wiped sweat away from his neck with a rolled sleeve. 

"Can I help you with something? Another order for Lailah?"

It was a very reasonable question. Those generally were the only times he visited the greenhouse, especially now that Alisha was no longer the regular help. Again, he tried not to get too hung up on his previous guilt, knowing it would serve neither one of them as he cleared his throat.

"Oh, um...well, nothing urgent. I'm sure she's probably got something in the works for flower orders, but I didn't come for that."

Like a hunting dog, Sorey cocked his head just slightly, still fixing himself up a little from the manual labor, though his bright eyes were still fixed on the smaller, now slightly pink young man. Mikleo was particularly weak to heat.

"Something else I can help with, then?"

Mikleo paused, trying to think of a way to properly address exactly what he came to see Sorey about before he righted his stance, standing a bit straighter while his tongue darted over his lower lip.

"Actually...I came because I found out you and I have something in common..."

Sorey blinked, apparently unperturbed by the finding before he was rubbing his cheek against his shoulder to catch a line of sweat as it fell.

"Really? I thought we had a lot in common already." Sorey was quite honest, Mikleo was finding, and were he not somewhat embarrassed that his attempts at being poised and curious were all but dashed, he would have been amused. Clearing his throat, Mikleo weathered the soft flush to his cheeks and reassured himself that the heat of the greenhouse was reason enough why he'd be somewhat red.

"I didn't mean something of interest." He corrected, Sorey giving a soft bob of his head in understanding before waiting patiently for Mikleo to continue. The silver haired barista collected himself before lifting amethyst eyes to Sorey's; green, like the glow of flora around him. Like the picture in Zenrai’s office. 

"...I had no idea that your father was a professor at my university." It didn't take a second before Sorey was visibly brightening, his smile pulling at his cheeks and creating a dimple in one side.

"Jiji! Yeah! He's been doing that since I was little! Is he one of your teachers?!" Sorey had taken a jubilant step forward, hunching a bit as he was quite anticipatory for what Mikleo had to say about his adoptive parent. Needless to say, Mikleo was charmed that the boy was as vivacious as he was about the elderly man; both as a student who was equally enamored with the professor, and as an observer witnessing a genuine love for family. Mikleo smiled, flicking his bangs from his face before he continued.

"He is. He's...actually my favorite professor." He was a bit abashed to admit he had idolized Sorey's father while doing quite the opposite to his son upon first meeting. "I've looked up to him since I was a little boy. My mother was a student of his." 

Sorey's eyes visibly glistened, his attention sharpening before he was honing in on Mikleo, as if suddenly studying a specimen. Mikleo retracted somewhat, almost anxious as if Sorey was witnessing a poisonous spider crawl about Mikleo's face without him knowing.

"What...?"

"Muse." 

Stunned to silence at the whir of conversation, Mikleo gaped wordlessly, long lashes fluttering as he tried to understand where Sorey was going and how he had gotten there.

"You're Muse's son." 

Mikleo was caught between being impressed and being intimidated. 

"Y...yes, how-"

"I knew it!" Sorey exclaimed, bright with triumph before he was planting his fists on his hips with pointed confidence. "Jiji used to talk about a really incredible student he had, a young woman who was sharp as a tack and had ambition like few he had seen. She was soft spoken and never came across as a go-getter upon first impression, but it was in her blood." 

Flashes of pride and shame flared to life and died within him in cycles, Mikleo well aware his lack of self confidence was strictly to blame for his unending inclination to compare himself to his mother's successes. He decided to focus on the tangible passion of Sorey's countenance and found it was far easier to relish the good feelings than the bad. 

"Jiji told me that she'd had a son...and that he was different than she was. Different, but undoubtedly intelligent and just as passionate; maybe even more so than she." Mikleo was not sure what to make of such an incredible compliment, having not expected the conversation to turn on its head and praise him so highly as to insinuate he was smarter than his mother. He was at a loss for words, honored but feeling unfit to be so and thus he plucked nervously at his clothing.

"That...I'm not...-" He shook his head, trying from a completely different angle. "How could you tell it was me...?"

Sorey didn't miss a beat, speaking as if it were an easy deduction. "There's a picture at his house of classes he's taught! He showed me once, and she's in one of them. You two look similar." 

Once? He'd seen it once and he was able to make the connection?

If there was any way to describe the look on Sorey’s face, it couldn’t be anything other than ecstatic, as if he were in the presence of someone revered. Mikleo couldn’t keep eye contact, his cheeks warm as ever at the feeling of continued and, in his opinion, undeserved praise. 

Still, it was no doubt a nice feeling, to have someone think such grand things about you, detached from your family’s accomplishments. He wondered briefly then if Sorey ever felt he was living in Zenrai’s shadow. Likely not, but it was interesting to entertain them having kinship on that level, both children of very successful scholars.

“It’s really obvious looking at your eyes.” 

He got that a lot.

“Although I’m surprised your hair is so light! Your dad’s side? Or do you dye it?”

He also got that a lot.

“It’s actually in part because of a melanin deficiency.” The words came softly as he tried to keep the usually routine response from sounding just like that; routine. Normally this was followed up by either an apology or even more probing questions about his health.

Neither came.

“Oh, that makes sense. I was just wondering if maybe it was a theme since Lailah dyes her hair a similar color.” The smile hadn’t faded any, nor had any tension crept in as Sorey just rolled with the conversation as easily and eager as ever. He could even sense a tinge of humor with the boy’s words, causing Mikleo’s mouth to unexpectedly quirk.

“Yeah, it’s not a group bakery initiation.” 

Sorey laughed. The sound was light and jubilant, unlike the soothing rumble of Zenrai’s own chuckles. Somehow, they had a similar effect, even still. It was infectious, the way his cheeks pulled at the edges while he watched Sorey beam and lean closer still as the conversation tickled him.

“Man, sure is a small world. How are your classes going, by the way? I heard a lot from our mutual friends that you’re a really serious student, so I imagine your grades aren’t a problem. Do you at least have enjoyable professors, overall?” Even his small talk somehow seemed different from others. It wasn’t the annoying obligation to being polite or catching up. It sounded like he truly wanted to know. 

Truthfully, Mikleo felt a similar sensation. There were already more questions he had than he could count for the happy florist. He was already forgetting how he meant to make the talk quick as Sorey was still on company dime. It was supposed to be a simple invitation to maybe spend time outside of work in the near future. How easily he’d been drawn in.

“Oh, yeah, I mean they kinda feel average. Your father’s class is really the only one that interests me much, to be honest.”

There was a small sort of peculiarity in the way Sorey smiled at that, enough of a deviation that it lifted Mikleo’s thin brows as he took slight pause, letting the silence inquire for him what was the matter with that statement.

“Sorry –“ His thick, brunette hair barely moved as he shook his head this time, firmly pinned down by the headband and slicked with sweat. “I guess it’s just funny to hear you call him my dad. Most people just say grandpa because of his age. I mean, myself included.”

Mikleo’s brows lifted, putting two and two together perhaps a little slower than usual.

“Jiji…I’m guessing that’s a nickname for grandpa?” Sorey bobbed his head once, expression glowing and chirping a ‘yup’ in response. Mikleo chuckled, entertaining the sort of scenario that could have arisen when Zenrai had first took the boy in. He supposed he was rather far along in age when Sorey was young, so perhaps being referred to as such never bothered the man, but Mikleo liked to think that perhaps he was at least hoping Sorey would have taken to calling him ‘father’ instead; perhaps even ‘papa’.

“He certainly looks the part, doesn’t he.” Mikleo mused with a rather sly smile, Sorey responding with a mischievous laugh of his own before he was quirking a brow.

“He may look it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he could knock you fl…” He stopped, expression becoming inquisitive as he leaned far to the left to look over Mikleo’s shoulder. Mikleo, curious, followed his line of sight behind him to spot a middle aged woman peering about and looking a bit lost.  
Springing into action, Sorey was stepping forward and around Mikleo, chirping amicably.

“Is there anything I can help you with, ma’am?”

Mikleo took his step back, wanting not to interfere with the interaction as he was currently not a paying customer. He supposed it would have been most proper to leave and let Sorey continue his work, but he felt he hadn’t fully finished what he intended to do upon coming to the greenhouse.

Sorey was an interesting person to watch interact with others. He was full of charm and spirit, and as he’d observed long before he was inclined to become close to him, the boy commanded attention in ways that radiated camaraderie and pleasant acquaintanceship. It appeared he could turn almost any association into something colorful and lively.

He was turning to fetch the woman a large bag of fertilizer, fifty pounds that Sorey hefted with relative ease over his shoulder and regarded the woman with a bright smile as she thanked him. Mikleo had managed to pick out small bits of their conversation, a moderately bad habit of eavesdropping he’d picked up from his earlier days in school.

“…You lifted with ease, I see.” The tail ends of a comment from the woman. Sorey laughed and remarked that the outdoors had crafted it within him, and followed her as she made her way to the checkout counter. Even from such a distance, Mikleo heard her next remark with relative clarity.

“You’ll make a woman very happy someday.”

Something strange settled in Mikleo’s stomach at the remark; something well intended, not malicious. Sorey, this time, did not speak but simply laughed a second time. It was somewhat breathy, quieter than before.

It reminded Mikleo that he knew something about Sorey that perhaps he shouldn’t have. It made him just a little uncomfortable, but only with the idea that perhaps Sorey would mind that knowledge being out in the open. To be fair, he had scarce knowledge of the gay community, having quite aggressively shunned any association with it after years of having his looks equated to a certain sexuality. He was probably called it before he truly knew what ‘gay’ was. 

Now, being a young adult on the verge of graduating and going out into the ‘real’ world, he liked to think he was open minded enough that it didn’t matter anymore what people thought of him or what other people were into. But he might not have given the woman’s comment a second thought if he didn’t know the truth.

His brows puckered slightly as he shifted, waiting for Sorey to finish up his business with her and seeing the slight look of surprise when he returned to Mikleo still idling. 

So I heard you were gay? How’s that going?

It felt too awkward to bring up. Not to mention he had so little experience, he didn’t want to say something potentially insensitive or uneducated. He opted to just focus on the goal he’d set originally when he came.

“Sorry about that-“ Sorey puffed, wiping the seemingly unending trickles of sweat that had long since dampened the collar of his button up. Mikleo couldn’t stop thinking about how he looked like he could use a drink. 

“Oh, no. It’s your job, after all. I’m just idling.” He shrugged and Sorey flashed him another warm smile, moving to untangle a hose that lay across one of the walking paths.

“Oh, but yeah – Jiji actually studied martial arts when he was younger. I’m sure he’s a lot more physically able than he looks.” Mikleo had nearly forgotten what it was they were talking about before the woman arrived, so caught up in the oddity of her small commentary. 

“Well, I’ll have to spar with him sometime, then. I studied for a couple years too.” Sorey’s wide eyes swung back, mouth open and round, as if he almost took the comment seriously. Come to find Mikleo’s grinning face, he burst out laughing instead. Another small victory that put a swell of pride right in Mikleo’s chest as being able to smooth things over so quickly.

It was probably in larger part due to Sorey’s natural charm, but Mikleo had never befriended anyone particularly easily.

He was getting off topic. It was of no surprise, honestly, Sorey was nigh parasitic for natural conversation and Mikleo was easily falling victim to it; such being debatable, seeing as he was quite a willing victim upon further reflection.It was rare he come across anyone he was willing to chat with so effortlessly.

“I don’t want to take away from your work, but I couldn’t help coming by to tell you about professor Zenrai…I honestly am astonished at how small the world is sometimes.” Mikleo mused, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear, Sorey beaming down at him so brightly, he almost had to look off. He still didn’t feel quite eligible for such positivity yet, but he would weather it as best he could for the greenhouse employee.

“Come by anytime! I mean, it helps the business, if nothing else.”

Mikleo snorted, though was reminded that he should probably purchase something. He cleared his throat and repositioned the backpack strap on his arm.

“I’ll see you later.” He almost choked on the words, feeling just a bit nervous with amiability but Sorey responded well to it, that dimple appearing again and creating a little crater in his cheek as he waved; only after wiping his brow as more sweat had beaded on his temple.

The moment Mikleo had stepped through to the front store, he was washed with another wave of cool air this time, realizing then just how flush he truly was. His cheeks had become rosy and he could feel the prickle of perspiration on his throat and wrists.

Struck with a thought, he turned back around to face Sorey, making to address him which caught the boy’s attention, but upon second thought, he decided against it and quickly swiveled back around and made his way out; leaving Sorey staring with a peculiar curiosity at Mikleo’s retreating back. It was only when the silver haired barista was returning with a large iced coffee that his thought process from a few minutes prior had been made clear.

Sorey, however, had since moved and was nowhere to be seen in the greenhouse, leading Mikleo to believe he had likely stepped outside for the time being. Mikleo placed the drink down atop one of the draining counters, searching for a means to leave a written message so he could evade the embarrassment of interaction upon a kind gesture but there was nothing.

The large flower pot Sorey had been hefting was still stationed in the center of the room. It had been a visibly heavy object for the brunette, and considering he had lifted a fifty pound back of fertilizer without much difficulty indicated enough about the weight of the pot. Mikleo, ever competitive and somewhat nosy, was shuffling over to the vessel of soil and observed it quietly before trying his own hand at lifting.

He was met with a nigh immovable object, feeling as though blood vessels had burst in his temple at how vivaciously he had attempted to lift and how utterly permanent it was fixed to the ground. In a momentary streak of stubbornness, Mikleo made a second attempt, squatting heavily and putting further muscle into it which resulted in a slight shift of the beast but nothing else. He sagged against it, feeling a bit foolish and entirely helpless while equally overwhelmed at Sorey’s strength. How strong was he?!

The glass door of the back was opening and Mikleo was springing to his feet, endeavoring to not look as though he’d just tried to wrestle a flower pot in a moment of enquiring hysteria. Sorey didn’t appear to notice, only looking surprised to see Mikleo standing amidst the lush of the greenhouse when he had left barely ten minutes prior.

The barista stammered, licking his bottom lip and gesturing to the iced coffee he’d placed on the counter.

“I just – it’s really hot so I thought I would bring something over.”

Sorey followed the direction of his gesture and spotted the drink before looking back to the violet eyed boy with an expression of honest surprise.

“For me? Thank you, Mikleo! Here, let me-” He began to fish through his pockets and Mikleo was already back stepping.

“No, it’s fine! I get drinks for free a lot of the time, so don’t worry about it.” When Sorey raised his head, Mikleo could read his eyes crystal clear and deflated just a bit, though in truly good faith. “It’s not like before, I promise. Just a…gesture of empathy since you don’t have your summer outfit yet. Goodbye for real this time.” He had made enough of a fool of himself already, even if Sorey had not been present to witness.

He was walking out a second time with Sorey was calling after him, halting his steps while he turned his head over his shoulder to regard the boy.

“There’s…” He stopped, thinking it over in a manner that had Mikleo quite thoughtful. Sorey’s expression was pensive, not quite serious, perse, but not the lightheartedness of his usual self. After a moment, he shook his head, fluffy chestnut locks flicking about before he was smiling; not so full as before. “Nevermind. Thank you for the coffee!”

Not wanting to push, Mikleo nodded and bid him adieu. With discretion, he purchased one of the succulents on the shelving at the front and made his careful way home, thinking of the woman and her fertilizer, and the expression Sorey wore before he left.  
-

For some reason, the comment stuck with him much longer than it would have even just a month ago. Hell, a month ago, he probably wouldn’t have noticed it…aside from using it as more ammunition to demonize Sorey. But how many times a day did Sorey have to uncomfortably laugh at comments just like that one; well-intentioned compliments on how he must be popular with women or would have a nice wife one day. It wasn’t something that likely he could speak up about, or rather, he probably didn’t want to. It was hard to tell whether someone might react adversely to being made aware of a different sexuality in someone, as silly as that sounded. He knew he himself would likely do his best to hide it, to act as heterosexual as possible…as he used to do when he was younger and accused of liking men just for having a slender body, long lashes and a preference for well-kept hair. 

But then…was that an insult to attach feelings of shame or negativity to the idea of presenting openly as ‘gay’? It certainly left him thinking, heavily self-reflecting for the next 48 hours, at least. Would Sorey feel ashamed to talk about it? Or was he politely avoiding conflict?

Was it easier for him in the day to day life? Sorey didn’t look gay. 

There was a moment of pause in his thoughts as he was staring at the board during morning lecture. Spacing out wasn’t generally a habit of his, but he’d already read all the material for class today. He already knew what it was the professor was going to listlessly read from the projected slides against the whiteboard.

‘Gay’ didn’t have a look, did it? Yes, there was a stereotype that presented itself in some people, but you didn’t have to be the ‘sassy effeminate’ to be gay. And to think Sorey’s life was easier just for not being a stereotype was probably another blunder in his uneducated thinking.

He wasn’t used to not being knowledgeable, especially with something that was common enough in everyday life. It bothered him to think he could be perpetuating even those little comments Sorey had to just smile through. It would be something maybe they could talk about if the two of them got closer. Likely with a professor as a father, Sorey would be open-minded and willing enough to take the position of an educator on the matter…but that also seemed like an expectation he shouldn’t assume. Eyes flicking briefly to his bag, he knew it would be something he’d be researching on his phone during lunch.

With color in his cheeks, he was reminded that he didn’t actually know whether that was a true fact about Sorey. And perhaps it was something he shouldn’t be so hyper focused on, but it couldn’t be all bad if he wanted to know more just to avoid being offensive.

As it turned out, it wasn't so simple as researching it. He was certainly presented a multitude of results on the matter, but the range to which one took offense to such comments varied considerably. It was likely best to approach it from the standpoint of the individual and their specific circumstances; the unending lists of online forums for what was and was not considered offensive could remain soundly nestled in the internet.

For the time being, the best he could do was remain aware of Sorey's preferences. For him, it wasn't difficult seeing as small talk made his skin crawl. Intellectual as he was, it was difficult to find enjoyment in conversation that was meaningless, even if it was meant as a polite gesture. It was, however, oddly eye opening to conversations around him. He wondered how much of it Sorey paid attention to. He appeared to be boy who didn't dwell on such comments, though perhaps it was because they were so frequent, it would be exhausting to allow oneself to be barbed with every mistaken comment. 

-

With school and work, it was easy to let it settle to the back of his mind, and strangely, when Sorey would come around, all bright smiles and glistening eyes, he couldn't focus on the technicalities of Sorey's sexual preferences. Getting caught up in excitable chatter concerning archaeological topics and other historical artifacts was becoming commonplace, so much so that Lailah had to politely usher Mikleo along as orders were waiting to be made. Perhaps it was fast to assume, but Mikleo rarely felt so assured in social interactions; he and Sorey had become friends. 

It wasn't long before graduation for the seniors, perhaps a month off at most. Mikleo had been turning over Zenrai's advice often, doing his best not to dwell on the end of the year drawing closer. Edna made a point of being direct with her barbs, stating she wouldn't be around indefinitely to keep him in line, so she needed to be thorough for the time she had left. 

"I'll just get a membership at your brother's gym if you're so worried about not seeing me anymore." Mikleo responded, shockingly genuine while giving her a small smile as he looked up from note taking. Edna was tossing him a disgusted look but didn't say anything. He knew she was contemplating the idea, turning it over and, seeing as she kept silent, he deduced she wasn't opposed to the idea.

She was quite subtle with her preference of company, but she was, admittedly, cute once you figured her out a little.

"Speaking of Eizen's gym; Sorey. That kid? I found out where I've heard that name before." She was kicking her feet idly, sitting on the edge of the table as she often did, observing the library from her perch beside Mikleo's books.

Mikleo hummed, smiling to himself as he felt a bit of mischief at knowing the secret. 

"Yeah?" He decided to keep quiet, not looking up as he scrawled.

"Yeah. He dated a guy I knew a while back." 

It wasn't what he expected her to say and unable to keep from expressing his surprise, Mikleo was lifting his head and giving her a somewhat blank stare. Edna felt his eyes on her, turning her head to meet them with her own before her brows were furrowing.

"...What. Didn't know he was gay or something?"

That snapped Mikleo out of his stupor, the boy shaking his head and clearing his throat, feeling he'd done a relatively decent job at playing an ally. 

"No - It's not -" he closed his eyes, taking a moment to properly center himself before turning back to his notes, pressing his palm to the paper though couldn't seem to write. "No, I knew he was gay, I just... that wasn't what I expected you to say?" 

"What did you expect me to say?" Edna was wearing an inquisitive expression, though he could tell she was fishing for more information than that. Mikleo shook his head, finally managing to loop some letters together.

"Nothing, nevermind. You said he dated a friend of yours?" Something felt strange in his gut.

Edna was quiet a second before she continued. "Sorta. I wouldn't say a friend. He went to the gym a lot; sort of bigger guy. Didn't come off to me that he would be interested in guys, but it was pretty hard to mistake what I saw when leaving the gym one time." Mikleo could feel a particularly bizarre reaction and a mirage of colorful imagery that he was eagerly willing away. He couldn't fully explain the sensation his imagination was dredging up but he knew he wasn't fond of it for many reasons. Edna continued, either unaware of Mikleo's quiet aversion or uncaring of it. "Anyway, he knew my brother well. They were dating for a time apparently." 

Mikleo had to force himself to speak, feeling oddly tongue tied. "Does he still go to the gym?" Edna hummed, seeming to think about it before shrugging. "I don't think so. Sorey definitely still does."

With a clap, Mikleo was closing his book and standing up, pulling his folders together into a neat pile. Edna watched him quietly, the gears turning while her mind worked over things in contemplative silence. She glanced his belongings before she turned to span the library once more.

"Meebo, how do you say 'butterfly' in Russian." 

He knew this was something coded, some sort of cryptic message unspoken that the blonde was weaving together in a clever, convoluted fashion. He tucked his Russian Language text book into his backpack and zipped it closed pointedly before he responded.

"I don't know." With a heft of his muscle, the back was swinging over his shoulder. Edna was there to meet his gaze this time, pinning him where he stood.

"You'll come to the gym, then? Seeing as you're not graduating with me this year?" 

He hadn't noticed until that moment that he had felt as though his mind had been whirring through an empty space, and only when Edna grounded him back in reality dud such become clear. She had a strangely incredible ability to center him at random intervals. He regarded her with equal amounts humility and gratitude. 

"Yeah." He sniffed, amused despite himself. He wondered, should Sorey every meet Edna rightfully, if they would get along; immediately casting off the thought as Sorey seemed incapable of clashing with almost anyone by nature alone. Perhaps he would introduce them.

He didn’t have time to dwell much on the little nugget of information Edna had cast before him. Sorey with a boyfriend? It made complete and utter sense. He was gay, so why wouldn’t he have had boyfriends in the past? Still, something about it wrinkled his nose. Clearly it had been someone active as Sorey was. That didn’t seem terribly shocking. But what was their personality like? Their interests? He couldn’t imagine it would be someone unintelligent, but he really just had no idea what Sorey’s tastes were in others, other than they had to be male.

Again, something unsavory sat on his tongue as he thought about it more. Was he truly not past the idea of a gay relationship…? Maybe years of equating it to something negative when he himself was called that word had hardwired him to disliking the notion.

That wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to Sorey that he kept judging who he may or may not have interests in. First Mikleo had labeled him as the womanizer, now he was feeling unsettled at the idea of him with a man.

Parting his lips, he drew in a deep lungful of air and forced his thoughts to settle themselves. He would accept this. He’d already learned, even in their fresh friendship, that Sorey was a boundlessly kind and empathetic person. He was a hard worker and a model son and he wouldn’t let some sort of preconceived notions about sexuality dampen the respect and acceptance the boy deserved. He’d do his very best to accept all parts of Sorey and the community that surrounded him.

His lashes flickered to the side, watching as two girls passed, chattering as they strode by with purses as large as their torsos and shoulders and legs left uncovered by summer wear. 

Still…he couldn’t help but wonder what Sorey’s type was if it was not at all women. He couldn’t imagine it for himself, so naturally it piqued curiosity he always had bubbling below the surface. What was it Sorey desired in a partner?

Perhaps he’d swing by the gym a little sooner than anticipated, telling himself it was for Edna’s sake and had nothing to do with discovering Sorey’s ex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BC: Thanks for hanging in there everyone! We're updating both our currently running fics today, but looking back at all the material we have for each, this Sormik story is due for more frequent updates! We've already written so much content for it, we may be taking some out with the potential of adding them as 'optional chapters', just so we don't get too bogged down with side interactions.
> 
> Either way, I can comfortably say this story is still a main focus for both of us and we have written about 3/4th of the entire thing! Looking forward to editing and sharing all that content over the next several weeks!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for giving my and BC's sormik story a read! We like to write relatively casually but still try to come across understandably and enjoyable to readers, so I hope this first chapter, although short, encourages you to read more! Please leave feedback on your thoughts, we love to hear what you guys have to say!


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